tenebrous
by scooter1
Summary: Something has been unlocked. Trouble and duplicity ensue.
1. Default Chapter

Hello, I want to apologize for confusing some people with the first chapter.  
  
This little romp would take place during season 1.  
  
It is set up as a sort of suspense/mystery I suppose, but because of the random and quirky humor that keeps popping up, I set the dial to general.  
  
I'm deliberately not giving away Ian Nottingham's intentions immediately and parts of the puzzle will reveal themselves as the plot moves along.   
  
The main character in the first chapter is written in first person to conceal their identity. If you don't like guessing games, you can cheat by scrolling to the bottom. There is a 'dead giveaway' there. As to What is happening and what Ian is up to, well, that will be coming out in bits and pieces scattered throughout the story.  
  
*********************** denotes change in point of view from one character to another.  
  
  
All the usual disclaimers and excuses.   
I own none of these characters or their wardrobes and toys. I'm just taking them out for a spin.  
They belong to Top cow and TNT, I beleive.  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 1  
  
*********************************************************  
  
The decision to walk home had perhaps been a bad one.   
  
*I should have caught a cab* I thought, while trying furtively to ditch the rather formidable looking man tailing me. The idea that he just happened to be going the same way was becoming a bit unlikely.   
  
Thinking about the recent development with the witchblade, I quickened my pace. Now would be a bad time to be cornered by the wrong people.  
  
As I hastened towards my flat I considered the fact that my neighborhood was comprised of more dark alleyways than well lit streets. Alleys that would be prime locations for mugging or whatever my tenacious stalker had in mind.   
  
I was debating whether or not to just head somewhere else when a black gloved hand shot out of one such alley and yanked me into the darkness. In the split second before I was pinned back against his chest, I caught a brief glimpse of my assailant.   
  
Ian Nottingham, Irons' menacing black clad assassin dragged me into the shadows. The fact that he had subtly threatened to kill me at one point stood out in my mind.   
  
With one freakishly strong arm effectively pinning my arms to my sides and a gloved hand over my mouth I was left with my feet as my only defense. I kicked furiously, assailing his shins repeatedly.  
  
The reward for my efforts unfortunately, was a close up view of graffiti and sharp knees pressed into the back of my thighs. I yelped into the gloved hand firmly gripping my face.   
  
The assassin had pinned me against a brick wall, his gun *I HOPED that was his gun* digging painfully into my backside. "Quiet." He hissed.  
  
I was vaguely aware of the sound of someone approaching the alley. Hope of a distraction or rescue sang briefly in my mind before turning into dismay as I realized it was most likely the sinister looking pursuer.   
  
Dread began to rise in my chest as I realized the hopelessness of my situation. The sound of my own heartbeat throbbed in my ears as the footfalls neared and stopped. I held my breath in apprehension. My captors 'Captain Morgan' hair veiled what little I could see of the mouth of the alleyway.   
  
I glimpsed a shadow moving forward through the veil and deduced that the man was entering the alley. I tensed under the grip of the assassin and tried to wrap my head around the events that led to my position and the motives of the men behind it.   
  
In my panicked state it was difficult to think clearly and Nottingham was not an entirely predictable man. Had he pulled me into the Alley to assist my pursuer? Why didn't the assassin just kill me himself? It didn't really make sense, especially since we appeared to be hiding from the large man.   
  
Thinking that Nottingham was protecting me was a bit too optimistic if not flat out ridiculous. Of course, the Idea of Nottingham offering assistance to would-be assailants was pretty far fetched also.  
  
An image of Nottingham giving pointers to the man popped into my head * " You want make sure you're not seen when you make the hit, otherwise you'll waste too much time eliminating witnesses. Also, use a silencer. I myself prefer a blade, silent but deadly..." *   
  
I nearly chuckled into his glove, earning me another jab with his *gun*.   
  
The shadow merged into the darkness of the alley and paused.  
  
*Probably letting his eyes adjust to the dark* I thought. I didn't get a chance to ponder the situation further as I was instantly released and the sound of a silenced gun met my ears.  
  
I promptly stumbled back and fell to my knees, the loss of pressure to the base of my thighs sending stabs of pain up my legs. I was aware of the sound of a body hitting the ground and tried to force my legs to run but they refused. All I managed was a cry of pain.   
  
As I mentally cursed the offending appendages a strong hand grabbed me from behind and lifted me to my nonresponsive feet. Instinctively, I reached back to free myself, only to have my wrist captured in a vice-like grip while my other arm was quickly grabbed and forced behind my back as well. He made short work of tying my hands, making me curse the incapacity of my legs at a crucial moment all the more.  
  
While being embarrassingly half dragged and half carried down a narrow street I Identified the survivor as Nottingham. I wasn't really surprised.  
  
As the circulation started to come back to my legs I began looking for the chance to escape. I had no intention of sticking around to find out what fate he had planned out for me. I'd had enough knowledge of these situations to know the outcome was never pleasant.  
  
As I eyed my surroundings for an escape route I realized we were headed towards my flat. What the hell?  
  
"You're taking me home?" I blurted without thinking. *My own voice resonated in my ears, making me realize how bizarre and out of place my first statement of the night sounded*.   
  
With a sinking dread, I thought of a reason why he might be taking me there. No, no... It couldn't be. How could he know about it?  
  
"Soon," Nottingham replied. What that meant didn't become clear until I was led inside the building and brought to a door near mine but not mine. It was padlocked.  
  
After opening the door with his free hand, he shoved me inside and pulled something from inside his coat. From the dim light I had trouble making out what it was until it was nearing my neck.  
  
A leash!? Expert assassin or no, I was having none of this. In my state of horror (odd, thinking that less than 20 minutes ago I was relatively calmly accepting my own death) I had no self recrimination, hesitations or doubts regarding my quick knee to the groin of the man facing me with a leash.   
  
Taking full advantage of his body's shock and pain, I ducked and darted past him, running with all the speed and force my abused legs would tolerate. I was sure I was home free until I reached the door leading to the streets and found that the maneuvering it takes to open a latch with hands tied behind your back simply negates a 5 second lead, adrenaline induced speed or no. I was now faced with a VERY pissed off Nottingham.  
  
Hands still frantically working at the latch (why did they make this one so complex?) I'd just gotten it free when Nottingham yanked me forward violently and shoved me against the wall. With my hands still tied behind my back, I was unable to stop him from securing the loathsome object of my panic around my throat... I had a terrible feeling this would end in an ugly death and I still had no idea what the purpose or end to this was.  
  
With the gloved hand back in place, muffling my protests, I was dispatched quickly back to the padlocked room. Nottingham had clearly lost any patience he may have had. I was dragged to a far corner of the small room where he tied the short leash to an exposed plumbing pipe.  
  
"No!" I tried to yell as the hand left my face briefly. My strangled cry was negated by fingers digging into my throat. The assassins mouth pressed to my ear. "Silence!" He whispered urgently.   
  
Having no choice but to be silent, considering his gloved hand was cutting off my oxygen, I settled for a glare at him before losing consciousness. My last dimming sight was of the assassins dark eyes staring into mine with a queer glint in them.  
  
***********************  
  
Ian Knottingham stretched his unconscious captive out on the floor. After searching the body for any implements of escape, he secured a gag and bound the troublesome legs. He briefly considered breaking them. After deciding against it, the assassin padlocked the door to the makeshift holding room and headed swiftly to his next task.  
  
He'd had little warning of the enemy's attack and had to move quickly and precisely to eliminate the threat. The unexpected development had complicated Ian's own risky plans, but if this played out right it could prove to his advantage.  
  
The assassin crouched outside the door to the flat, listening intently. He could hear people moving about inside and objects being overturned. As he expected, more agents had come back to search for the tome.   
  
He hoped they would find the masterfully exact replica he'd planted on his last visit to the flat. After disposing of the intruders and disabling all monitoring devices he'd placed the fake tome in a drawer before preparing the makeshift cell nearby. That accomplished, he'd left in search of the prey he knew they'd be hunting.  
  
Having terminated the hunt and capturing their prey, *not without severe pain to his groin and what promised to be lovely welts dotting his shins* he steeled himself for the tricky part of his scheme.   
  
Dagger in hand, the assassin slid the door open and swiftly dispatched the man guarding it before he even had a chance to comprehend his demise.  
  
***********************  
  
A dim and dirty room greeted my eyes as I returned to consciousness. Something was in my mouth, my neck felt odd and I ached seemingly everywhere. It wasn't till I tried to remove the offending object from my mouth that I realized my hands were tied. Memory flooded back as to how I'd gotten into this situation in the first place and I groaned... The gag was new. I looked down at my bound legs. *I guess he's not risking a repeat performance*  
  
***********************  
  
Ian Knottingham silently lowered the corpse to the floor and prowled unnoticed, further into the room. Concealing himself in the shadows, he assessed the situation and waited for events to play themselves out.   
  
He waited...and waited as they continued in what had to be the worst foraging endeavor he'd ever witnessed.   
  
"Did you search the bathroom?" Asked one of the two remaining men. The other, younger and slightly taller man peered up from the sofa he was dismembering.  
  
"That's pretty heavy bathroom reading material," he smirked. The older man simply glared at him before resuming his destruction of a fairly innocent looking bookshelf. Sighing, the younger man desisted his assault on an armrest and stalked off to the doomed lavatory.   
  
This was taking far too long. Their bizarre thoroughness might actually unearth the real tome. Ian himself, hadn't been able to find it. He had hidden a video camera in the flat before the tome arrived, but the sole tenant had the dumb luck of constantly placing objects in front of the minute lens.  
  
As Ian watched one of the men thoroughly examine a chair cushion, he was hit with the ridiculous thought of throwing something at the drawer holding the replica to draw their attention to it. Thankfully, at that moment one of the men had an epiphany and started to actually open drawers.   
  
Once he'd discovered this new and exciting search method it was only a short time before the replica was found.  
  
***********************  
  
Nottingham had been thorough. After squirming about and searching any pocket my bound hands could reach, I groaned at the realization that I had nothing to cut the bonds and no cellphone. The leash insured I could not even leave my corner. If there was a way out of my predicament it eluded me. Sighing in resignation, I sat back and waited for whatever the assassin had planned.  
  
***********************   
  
"Ha!" The younger man barked in triumph, holding up what looked to be an ancient box.   
  
His accomplice looked over in relief. "Good, now we can get out of here before whoever took out the others returns."  
  
"What about the key?" Asked the younger man whom Ian had mentally dubbed 'tank man'. For some inexplicable reason he had brought the lid to the toilet tank out of the bathroom after searching it and placed it on a table like a trophy.  
  
"No one even knows what it looks like or how it works except the owner of this fine establishment. Anyway, that's not our problem; some special ops guy is taking care of it. A buddy of 'Smiley', over there." He said, gesturing towards the entrance that 'Smiley the corpse' was supposedly guarding.  
  
***  
  
At least neither buddy will miss the other, Ian mused.   
  
While the men had been discussing the key and the *unbeknownst to them, failed* kidnapping, Ian had slinked back to the door. He moved 'Smiley' out of the way and opened the door slightly. He hoped this would provide incentive for the man holding the replica to flee rather than fight.   
  
It would be the wise decision, especially since the man seemed aware of the fact that the assassin had decimated the previous, highly skilled team of agents. As Ian saw it, the mans' main priority would be to get the prize back to his superiors. Tonight, however, no one seemed predictable.  
  
If things went according to plan the man would escape with the prize while Ian made a show of occupying himself with his partner. If both men decided to fight it could be a slight problem.  
  
An even worse scenario had occurred to Ian as he'd watched their unusual search tactics. This second team, seemed less experienced, less professional. They might just freeze and wet themselves. That would be bad. It would be very suspicious if a highly skilled assassin had difficulty killing two men with wet spots at close range. No one was that bad of a shot.   
  
***  
  
"Hey Smiley, time to go" 'Tank man' called as they headed towards the door. As they rounded the shelving unit they spotted 'Smiley' slumped against the wall and froze.   
  
***  
  
The assassin stepped into view, automatically firing at the first man to go for his gun. Ian mentally sighed with relief at the fact that it had been the one with both hands free.  
  
The man carrying the decoy tome seemed momentarily torn between reaching for his gun or fleeing. Ian solved the man's indecision by lunging at him and feinting to get purchase of his booty. Instinctively, the man clutched the prize to himself and fled. Ian gave restrained chase for a bit before allowing his duped prey to evade him.  
  
Satisfied with his deception, he headed back to deal with his hostage.   
  
Even inanimate objects were joining the unpredictable club tonight, Ian mused as he glared at the lock which refused to open despite the fact that he'd properly inserted and turned the key.   
  
Losing patience with all things uncooperative he manhandled the lock into submission. He entered the padlocked room and eyed the captive in the corner for signs of anything amiss. The apprehensive expression of the prisoner relieved him and warmed his heart. All was well.  
  
Ian Nottingham reached into a pocket and retrieved the cellphone he'd pilfered from his captive. He turned the phone on and advanced on the terrified being who was trying desperately to appear calm.  
  
***********************  
  
I lost sense of time while sitting in the pitch black room, not sure if I'd been there for minutes or hours. I was getting tired of trying to guess what would happen next and why I was here. Anything involving the witchblade always ended up being bizarre anyway.   
  
Just as my sleep deprived brain was making an exit towards la la land I heard a sound, a slight scrape. I tensed and waited.  
  
The noise of the key rattling in the lock startled me. It seemed odd. Nottingham was always silent, always stepping out of nowhere and disappearing into shadows without a sound. Maybe it wasn't Nottingham!   
  
I heard the padlock click open. My tenaciously optimistic mind produced an image of a harmless and confused janitor peering in at me with a shocked and confused expression.   
  
As if to teach my optimism a lesson on popping up at inappropriate moments, my hopes were dashed as muted light entered the dark abyss of the room. The figure who stood in the doorway was definitely the assassin. He was neither harmless nor shocked. In fact, he looked quite pleased.  
  
After pausing to observe my state he fiddled with a cellphone before retuning it to his coat and advancing on me. Without bothering to speak, he freed the leash from the pipe and grabbed me about the waist. Feeling like a sack of potatoes, I was hauled from the room to my flat wordlessly.  
  
As I was totted across the flat I noticed bodies slumped on the floor. Ignoring them, Nottingham deposited me on the remains of my sofa. Without ceremony my gag was removed and for a brief, insane moment I'd worried that I'd drooled on it.   
  
Hm, gag removed means interrogation begins. I really wasn't looking forward to this.  
  
"Where is the tome?" He asked in a casual manner, similar to the tone people use when in search of a restroom. I pretended not to hear and distracted myself by surveying the objects in the room that weren't Nottingham. "What is... Is that um, the lid to the toilet tank?"   
  
"Yes." Nottingham answered calmly, as if the toilet tank cover had every right to be on the table where I usually took my coffee. "So, where is it? Is it safe?" He prodded.  
  
Any reply I could think of would either bring danger to people I cared about or possibly get me killed so I chose the 'no answer' route. I was most likely on the path to torture and now wished I'd spent my 'cell time' a little more constructively.  
  
The leash was starting to chafe my neck. "What's with this leash? Does it come with the standard assassin kit or is it some sort of creepy kink of yours?" I asked irritably, still not acknowledging his question.   
  
I was beginning to notice that every time I failed to answer him I was losing more personal space.   
  
He was now looming over me threateningly, grasping the back of the sofa with an arm on either side of my head. The view of my destroyed flat was obliterated by black coat and bearded visage. I wondered how long it would be before the actual beating began.  
  
"I was about to walk my dog when I was informed of the situation." He said, cocking his head to the side as if appraising me. "It was...convenient" In the slight pause, that weird gleem shone in his eyes again. As I still didn't understand it's portent, it made me feel uneasy. His next actions escalated that feeling.   
  
Placing a hand on either side of my head he eliminated the remaining personal space, his face almost touching mine. "It's a good look for you" he murmured, his breath grazing my tensed mouth as I tried desperately to pull away. "Now, tell me where the tome is" he demanded softly.   
  
My panicked state was working it's way towards catatonic when The assassins coat rang shrilly. It must have startled both of us witless because when I came to my senses I noticed I wasn't the only one sprawled on the floor.   
  
Taking a moment to regain his composure, the assassin reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be my cellphone. A slow smile spread accross his face as he studied the ID screen. With an evil grin he placed it to my ear.   
  
I shot him a questioning look before answering automatically, "Talismaniac."  
  
  
  
End part 1  
*********************************************************  
  
Ah, there was a reason for using first person throughout most of this thing, though I imagine it wasn't really too tough to figure out who the person was. The rest of the story moves a bit easier as I no longer need to conceal things. It's also a helluva lot easier to write. Avoiding mention of gender and other details is tricky.   
  
If there is anyone out there who want's to see how this plays out and what is actually going on just let me know and I will attempt to pull the next part together. 


	2. the more the merrier

The usual disclaimers. I'm simply playing with someone else's stuff.   
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys and appliances, including the Witchblade. Smiley, Tank man and the toilet tank lid are, however, mine. Why do I get all the crappy characters?   
  
Excuses, apologies and warnings.  
***  
Even though a tome is a book I described it as a box because I imagined that's what this particular one would look like in an unopened state.   
I apologize in advance if some thoughts and actions are a bit over the top *certain characters DO react very passionately on the show sometimes*.  
*warning* There is some mild swearing.   
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 2  
chapter 1  
*********************************************************  
  
The wielder's familiar voice greeted him. "Gabe, thank god! I was beginning to get frantic. Why weren't you answering your phone?"   
  
"Sara? Hey, is everything okay?"  
  
He hoped the people that had been after him and trashed his place hadn't also gone after the wielder. The fact that Ian had let him talk to her, however, made it obvious he was being used as bait.  
  
"I don't know? Is it?" Sara asked, sounding a bit worried yet cross. "The Witchblade went crazy and a lot of the images were of you being attacked and tied up. Are you at home?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm not too bad really, just sporting a lot of gear I'd rather not. Dog collars aren't really my thing."   
  
Ian was annoyed. The impudent little brat was chatting away as if he was discussing the weather rather than addressing the fact that he was bound head to foot in his demolished apartment with dead bodies on the floor and an assassin holding the phone to his ear.  
  
"What?!" Sara gasped into the phone.  
  
"Ahhhh, I'd figured you'd seen that in your vision otherwise I wouldn't have mentioned it. It's a bit embarrassing," Gabriel muttered. He hoped the assassin wasn't getting a kick out of his discomfiture.  
  
Ian was getting impatient with the conversation, which seemed to be getting nowhere fast. He was also irked at the realization that he, the strong, highly trained killer with the impressive physique and catlike reflexes was sporting more injuries than his captive. To top it all off the little twerp had delivered said injuries. He cuffed Gabriel upside the head just for good measure.  
  
"OW!" Gabriel yelped before he could stop himself.  
  
"What was that? What happened?", Sara demanded.  
  
"I dunno, he's just being his typical asinine self, I guess," Gabriel grumbled while wishing he had a free hand to rub his throbbing head.  
  
"Who? What he? Gabriel, what is going on? Who is there with you?"   
  
"Nottingham." Gabriel responded, thinking Sara was beginning to sound a bit hysterical.  
  
"Nottingham!" Sara barked into the phone, loud enough for the assassin himself to hear.  
  
Gabriel didn't seem to be getting any nearer to playing the part the assassin had planned out for him. The 'Damsel in distress' is supposed to cry "Sara! Come save me!", not behave as if it were just another day at the office. The assassin decided to intervene. He pulled the phone away and put it to his own ear.   
  
"Hello, Lady Sara." He crooned.  
  
"What the hell is going on?!" Sara demanded. She had grabbed her gun and jacket and was heading towards her Buell. "I told you to leave my friends alone."  
  
The threat in her voice sent delicious thrills down Ian's spine. *GOD, she's sexy when she's angry.*   
  
"I have not harmed him," he replied smoothly.  
  
"BULLSHIT, Nottingham! I heard him yelp," she seethed.  
  
Ian had a retort but was unwilling to admit that the brat had done worse damage to him. Besides, saying "He kicked me first" sounded childish. " I saved his life Sara," he stated, deciding to focus on the larger, more impressive picture.  
  
"Oh really?", she snapped, not sounding the least bit convinced. "Well, let's see if you can save your own!" She pocketed the phone and started her bike. She was not about to allow Nottingham to toy with her friend.   
  
Ian was giddy with joy. If he were alone he may have performed a few cartwheels just to release some of the overwhelming excitement and anticipation that was flooding through him. Everything was falling into place and one very angry, hot and sexy detective was on her way.   
  
With an obscenely feral grin plastered on his face, Ian turned to Gabriel. Not knowing the reason behind the assassin's extreme expression, Gabriel paled in horror. He was now truly terrified.   
  
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Sara did come, after all.  
  
  
tbc  
*********************************************************  
  
I know, I know *winces*. I still haven't explained things. This part just happened to roll out easily. Putting together all the circumstances leading up to this situation is a bit difficult to do without reading like a 'National Geographic' documentary or a page out of 'Nancy Drew'. It's also very tricky. It will probably take much longer and I may post in short chapters. I dunno yet. I honestly didn't expect such quick and pleasant responses.   
  
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, you lovely reviewers! You are the reason this second chapter is up so soon. I hope you weren't disappointed. You are also the reason I've decided to spend the rest of the afternoon wrestling with the remaining story instead of doing something productive. Hmmm, SHOULD I be thankful? Oh well, at least this is kinda fun. It IS nice to have people say nice things.  
  
pequenop - I sent a reply, but as I'm pretty new to all this, I'm not sure where it went. This is actually my first and likely only WB fic. I wanted to start at the action part because that was my first image and I love reading suspense. I do have a set up for the situation but it's laying about in parts and bits, looking a bit like I imagine gabe's flat.  
  
Again, if there are any Beta readers out there or bored grammar teachers I could really use some help. 


	3. not what it seems

The usual disclaimers. I'm just borrowing it! Jeez, I'll give it back!   
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
Excuses and warnings.  
***  
*warning* Mention of nudity! - close your eyes! -   
swearing *some people on the show never went to charm school*  
use of the word 'pervert'  
  
If you are still not daunted, read on.  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 2  
chapter 3  
*********************************************************  
  
  
Nottingham's disturbing grin had eventually calmed to a sinister smirk. After what seemed an eternity of being stared at by the assassin, Gabriel decided to break the silence.   
  
"Who were those men?" He asked, nodding towards one of the corpses and trying to sound casual rather than skittish. He had developed a pretty good poker face from dealing in artifacts worth thousands but it had been a long night and his nerves were wearing thin. He also had the feeling he wasn't fooling the assassin in the least.  
  
Ian paused before answering him. It was amusing to watch Gabriel trying to appear calm when the heat emanating from his body alone, betrayed his fear. The look on his face when he'd finished his conversation with Lady Sara, however, was priceless.  
  
"A secret sect that has existed for centuries...and," he pondered Smiley and Tank man, "perhaps some mercenaries. They have tried many times to acquire the Witchblade and failed miserably," he snorted. "The Witchblade Tome however, has been in their possession for centuries. They were not pleased to have it stolen."   
  
"Oh," was all Gabriel could think to say. About a month ago he had gotten a call from a relatively reliable dealer of antiques, saying he'd acquired a strange box that was reputed to be the Witchblade Tome; a diary of sorts from one of the early wielders'. The antique dealer said he had been given Gabriel's name as someone who might be interested in acquiring it.   
  
While he wasn't thrilled that someone was aware of his interest in the blade, he couldn't really turn down a chance to aid Sara. As far as any of his research was concerned the tome was only a myth but he decided to check it out. Saying he did have a couple clients who were into that kind of stuff, he'd made an appointment to examine it.   
  
It looked more like a small chest than a book and had no apparent openings, but as he ran his sensitive fingers around the edges he felt a slight variance, a possible groove where there should be none. As his finger slid along it, he had a strange sense of familiarity, as if he'd felt that groove before.   
  
Acting on his instincts, he offered a price. Unlike with Nottingham, his poker face had accomplished its purpose; he managed to lower the price of it to the level of an arcane but useless object, although it was still pretty high. "Anything for Sara," he'd murmured as he left the shop with the relic in tow and a substantially lightened bank account.   
  
"So they tracked it to me and tried to get it back," Gabriel acknowledged. A clear-cut explanation of anything was a relief.   
  
"They would have come to claim it before you had even laid hand's on it if the tome was any great danger to them." Nottingham blithely replied.  
  
"So much for clear-cut answers," Gabriel thought.  
  
Feeling Nottingham was fishing for something, he switched the subject. "How did you know they were going to attack?"  
  
"I didn't. I witnessed the break-in on one of my monitors. You should be thankful that you moved the Etruscan urn."  
  
"What the... You've been spying on me?" he cried. Gabriel was shocked. God, what had Nottingham seen, or heard for that matter? Not only could Ian know about the key but also he'd had naked romps all about the flat with Maria.   
  
It was bad enough that she'd left him on account of some tryst that didn't exist. *He had to admit that frequent secret meetings with an attractive woman at odd hours could appear a bit suspicious* To have some creepy assassin spying on intimate moments with his girlfriend was too much.   
  
The thought of Nottingham watching his sexual endeavors like a porn film made him shudder; the memory of Ian's queer glints was making him even more creeped out. He drew his knees to his chest in a guarded position. He suddenly felt naked.  
  
Seeing the look of shock on Gabriel's face, the assassin was surprised as well. He had come to the conclusion that the boy was toying with him. No matter where he moved the cameras, within minutes of arriving home Gabriel would casually walk past a camera and deposit some varied object usually right in front of it. He also seemed to have an annoying habit of rearranging things constantly. Not once, did any of the videos record an unobstructed view of the flat.   
  
When one 18-hour cassette displayed nothing but a smiley face beaming at him from a coffee mug, he was sure the boy was taunting him.  
  
"How did you get in?" Gabriel croaked, in a voice so hysterical Nottingham wondered what exactly he'd missed.  
  
"Your security system is hardly formidable to someone of my skill," Nottingham smirked.  
  
"So that's how you found out about the Tome," Gabriel stated. His stomach dropped. Ian knew everything. But then... "Wait. Why in the hell were you interrogating me about the tome when you already know everything about it? Were you just bored? Practicing intimidation techniques?"  
  
"I arranged for you to acquire the tome under my Masters orders. It is because of your ludicrous lack of housekeeping skills and aberrant habit of constantly rearranging every damn..."   
  
Thoroughly confused as to why the assassin went on a tangent about his housekeeping, Gabriel pondered what Nottingham had said about his acquisition of the tome.  
  
Ian was still raving, gesturing dramatically at different objects in the room "...you HAVE a coat rack! But no, you just fling garments everywhere! I doubt you even - "   
  
Gabriel interrupted the irate assassins rant. "Are you saying I've been duped this whole time? You sent it to me so I could do all the work, thinking I was helping Sara only to have Irons reap the rewards when he deemed fit?" Gabriel felt sick; from the little that he'd managed to translate so far, it would be better if the tome had never been opened than to fall into Iron's hands. He could use it against her, possibly finding her weaknesses.   
  
Ian perceived the young man's misery and produced a smug smile. "Mr. Iron's plan was simple; all I had to do was put the tome in your acquisitive little hands. Knowing your relentless desperation to please Sara, it was only a matter of time before you found a way to open it for her. Once opened, it would be retrieved. Of course, you performed beautifully," he sneered, staring down at the bound young man.  
  
That he was unwittingly used as a pawn in Irons scheme filled Gabriel with shame, guilt, anguish and resentment. For some reason, these emotions teamed up and transmuted into an explosion of full force fury. His bound feet flew up and kicked the assassin's gloating face right in the jaw.  
  
Nottingham, leaning forward and enjoying the humiliation of the erudite boy, never saw it coming.  
  
The assassin had been contemplating informing the boy that his own plans were duplicitous and that he'd intended to maintain the wielder's advantage when his head was violently snapped back by a blow that came out of nowhere.  
  
He spun around looking for the unseen assailant before remembering the captives' vexing members. He regretted his decision not to break them.  
  
Gabriel had quickly tucked his knees back to his chest, looking extremely sheepish and terrified. Okay, that was not the smartest move for anyone in his position, especially if they had any desire to live. A taunt from childhood rang in is head *You are SO in TROUBLE!"*  
  
With a pained yelp, Gabriel was yanked up by the collar, spun and slammed face forward into the demolished sofa. The extreme lumpiness of said furniture confused him briefly until his brain registered that he was on the assassin's lap. *What the... Good lord! The man wasn't actually planning on spanking him, was he?!* The pressure of the assassin's steel forearm applied to the back of his knees, was countered by the other on his shins. Gabriel realized what the assassin was about to do. He was going to break his legs with his bare hands. *Oh Fu..*  
  
"WHAT THE HELL!" The vehement scream caused both men to flinch simultaneously.  
  
This was the sound that made even seasoned warriors, hardened criminals and war vets quail. A livid female.  
  
This was not the scene Ian Nottingham planned to greet Lady Sara with.  
  
***  
Sara Pezinni stood in the main room of what remained of Talismainiac.com. Her wildest imaginations had never prepared her for the sight that greeted her. Her stalker had Gabriel bound hand and foot, wearing a dog collar and spread across his lap.  
  
"Nottingham! Jesu-... What kind of a sick pervert are you?! Let go of him!"  
  
"Lady Sara...," Nottingham greeted. He was at a loss for words beyond addressing her, realizing the situation looked dubious at best. He had planned on removing the collar before she arrived. He hadn't planned on the boy's unpredictable behavior. This was all Gabriel's fault.  
  
The assassin released the boy's legs and with one arm he swiftly lifted Gabriel to his chest. The other held a knife to Gabriel's throat. "Your boy has been difficult."   
  
  
  
tbc  
********************************************************* 


	4. turning point or things blow up

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
*warnings*   
***  
blood *but not copious amounts*  
swearing  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 2  
chapter 4  
*********************************************************  
  
  
Now that Sara was here and his legs were out of danger, Gabriel had a moment to ponder the ramifications of what Ian had last said to him. Nottingham knew the Tome had been opened.   
  
Gabriel had hidden it before leaving to show Sara what he'd translated so far but unfortunately, he hadn't locked it. If Ian had been monitoring his flat, he could know how to release the outer casing. It was still in the book form it became after the Witchblade touched it and it was unlocked. That was not good.   
  
He had two hopes to prevent disaster. One was to escape from the assassin, get the key, lock the Tome and dispose of the key, swallow it maybe. No, that wouldn't work. For some reason he doubted Nottingham would have any qualms about cutting him open to get it.  
  
The other possibility was to get Sara to touch the Tome with the blade. He surmised that it would go back to its sealed, impregnable state. His mood lightened. Yes, if the touch of the blade transformed the Tome, it would be perfect. The only problem being that he had not shown Sara how to open the outer casing and that it was highly unlikely that the assassin would leave the room to allow Gabriel's little plan to work out. His mood darkened once again.  
  
"There has been a slight mishap, Lady Sara. Your boy here, has let something slip." He paused to study his captive's reaction but Gabriel seemed lost in thought. For someone with a knife at his throat he had an amazing amount of cheek to be daydreaming, Ian surmised. "He has caused unwanted attention from sources that mean you harm."  
  
The assassin's statements registered in the back of Gabriel's mind. "He'd let something slip?" He was about to protest when he realized he must have. He just didn't know how.  
  
"I have snuffed that fire," Nottingham continued. "Lamentably, it may have started another, more dangerous one. This puts me in a very precarious position."  
  
"Oh really? I'm profoundly concerned for you," Sara rejoined caustically. "Does tying up my friend and playing dress-up with him make you feel better?"   
  
Sara herself felt horrible. Her friend's life was at stake because he tried to help her. She loathed speculating how much Gabriel had already suffered.   
  
Ian maintained his quiescent facade. Inwardly he was torn between delighting in Lady Sara's heated retorts and wincing at her perception of the situation. "I believe Gabriel knows what would make me feel better." Ian stared pointedly at his captive.   
  
Without thinking Gabriel blurted, "A tidy flat?" Bad answer. The assassin pressed the knife beneath Gabriel's jaw and forced it up until the young man was facing him fully, drawing blood in the process.  
  
"Stop!" Sara screamed and took a step closer. The Witchblade reacted immediately, extending into a sword.   
  
"Do not come closer Sara, or I will kill him," The assassin stated coolly.  
  
"Tell me what you want Ian," Sara pleaded.   
  
Gabriel had frozen, afraid to breathe. Nottingham's eyes bore into his. His neck felt warm, wet and he wondered if the assassin was going to kill him anyway.  
  
The assassin didn't move, his eyes still trained on Gabriel's face as if mentally willing him to acquiesce. "I want to protect you, Sara."   
  
"Gabriel isn't a threat, Nottingham. Let him go." Sara's voice was quavering.   
  
Nottingham released the blade's pressure on the young man's exposed throat slightly. "No, he is not. He is at the center of it at the moment, though. I need him to tell me where the tome is. I must see it to assure my master that all is well." He turned the knife slightly to allow Gabriel to speak. "Tell me," he whispered.  
  
At those two words. Gabriel's mind, which had been racing through and weighing various possibilities, scenarios, outcomes and escapes, suddenly went blank. A dull buzzing filled his ears and the assassin's face seemed ridiculously vivid and vague at the same time although every hair was distinctly clear, as if he was seeing it through a magnifying lens.   
  
He was dimly aware of a sharp pain in his neck and an unintelligible scream that seemed very far away. It felt like he was under water. He gasped, drawing in breath and blinked. Sara was quite a bit closer than he'd remembered. The Witchblade was within striking distance.  
  
"He doesn't have to die, Sara," Ian Nottingham soothed while still holding the knife to Gabriel's throat.  
  
Gabriel was still trying to figure out what had just happened. He realized he was shaking. "How embarrassing," he thought.  
  
Still wielding the Witchblade menacingly, Sara narrowed tear filled eyes at Gabriel. "Dammit Gabe! Tell him! TELL him!"   
  
"NOW!" Sara barked. Her enraged and frantic eyes met his soft, confused ones. "Your life is more important to me," she insisted. "I can take care of myself."   
  
"Kitchen. Count Chocula," he murmured, his lashes veiling dilated pupils. He felt exhausted, defeated, yet detached. The tremors running through his slender frame were tiring him. He wished they would stop.  
  
Although Gabriel's hiding place didn't surprise Sara, the assassin was stunned. The boy's habits and way of thinking were inscrutable. Nottingham had surreptitiously led Gabriel on a wild goose chase, in order to thoroughly search his place for the Tome's hiding spot. After searching every surface and object for hidden compartments to no avail, he gave into the urge to move a hideous doll slightly, so that it did not block one of the minute cameras he'd laboriously placed.   
  
When he played back the video, which was now obstructed by a full view of the dolls behind, he saw Gabriel staring directly at the doll for twenty minutes, as if he was expecting it to make a move on it's own. It was disturbing.   
  
"I will kill you, Nottingham, if you-" Sara threatened. She didn't want to leave Gabriel alone with the lethal man.   
  
"Just bring it to me, Sara. If you cooperate, he will live. I am a man of my word."  
  
Ian Nottingham should have been relieved, but the sun would rise soon. The events and revelations between now and the time he would have to report to his master would determine his path or demise.  
  
The boy lay quiescent on his lap, aside from the faint tremors. Despite his bravado for most of the night, he had succumbed to shock, with a little help from lack of oxygen but not much blood loss. Despite Sara's obvious affection for the boy, he was a poor choice of ally in Ian's mind, as he would never survive any serious combat situation.   
  
Still, Ian couldn't help but wonder if the Witchblade was somewhat responsible for Gabriel's sudden state. There was no sudden blow or substantial blood loss to account for his condition. Up till now the boy had been amazingly resilient. He knew the Witchblade affected Sara, occasionally even himself and Irons if It chose.   
  
Briefly he wondered if Gabriel was more significant than he'd earlier surmised. If the blade was to blame for the boy's state, he hoped it would release him soon. He needed the boy to open the outer encasement. As if on cue, the boy chose that moment to speak.   
  
"You didn't say you were taking it to Irons," Gabriel stated calmly. "And I'm not a boy, I'm a man." Ian's eyes widened in astonishment just as Sara appeared with the Tome.  
  
Sara mistook the cause of Ian's dismay. "Um, yeah. It's pretty impressive, I guess," Sara stated, placing the artifact in front of Ian.  
  
"Why did you just say that?" Ian demanded, suddenly suspicious that the b-Gabriel was telepathic.  
  
"Well, you looked impressed! God Nottingham, you are such a freak," Sara complained peevishly.  
  
Getting no response from Gabriel, Ian decided to drop the subject. With his free hand, Ian procured a second knife from his boot and slit the rope binding Gabriel's wrists. He sincerely hoped the boy was through being difficult. The assassin was running out of time. "Open it, " he commanded Gabriel.  
  
Gabriel looked to Sara. "Do it Gabe," she urged him gently.   
  
Reluctantly, he obeyed. His deft fingers slid in slow patterns across the surfaces of the Tome. As they did, thin grooves and rectangular holes became visible. Panels became evident and Gabriel carefully slid them into place. Slowly the box began to appear more like a book. He turned it over carefully and as he slid the last piece concealing the pages into place, there was a faint click. A part of the books' cover had receded revealing the depression of a complex symbol surrounded by raised simpler ones. It was a lock demanding a key. *Noting the nature of the symbols, the assassin smiled broadly, obviously very pleased.*   
  
Gabriel remembered how disappointed he'd been when he'd first unlocked the encasing. Where the ridges of the pages should have been he'd felt smooth surface, as if the pages had fused together seamlessly. As he'd contemplated how to unlock the next part of the puzzle, the phone rang. It was Sara. Her 'psychic hotline' bracelet was excited.  
  
Unfortunately, now it was the tome in its readable form. Some part of him screamed for him to do something but it felt like some force had taken the will to fight out of him.   
  
Gabriel looked up at Sara with sorrowful eyes. He'd meant to help her. Instead, he'd unlocked a weapon against her.  
  
She gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Gabriel. I can handle Irons."  
  
Sara's gaze went from warm and reassuring to frozen steel as she flicked it to Nottingham. *The assassin savored her ferocity with glee* "OK Nottingham. You got what you wanted, now let him go." Sara addressed the smiling assassin who was still holding a knife to Gabriel's throat.  
  
Ian eyed the wielder with pleasure before responding. "Hand the Tome to Sara, Gabriel."   
  
Gabriel blinked. "Huh?"   
  
Sara's eyebrows flew up. She shot the assassin a confused look as she accepted the tome.  
  
"I said I wanted to protect you, Lady Sara," Ian stated calmly, as if this explained everything.  
  
The assassin pulled the knife away from Gabriel's bloodied neck. He cupped the young man's cheek and whispered; "You and I are very fortunate. However, if you decide to research anything else you discover in the Tome, warn me before hunting down rare translations."  
  
Comprehension and confusion warred in Gabriel's wide eyes. Nottingham stared intently into them, stressing his point; " I cannot lie to my master. I can only avoid obtaining certain information, even then, only to a point. Do not force me to betray Sara." With that, he slid Gabriel off his lap and strode towards the door. Before rounding the shelving unit, he spun back around to face the two shell-shocked people in the room.  
  
"You may keep the collar, Gabriel, I still say it's a good look for you," Ian purred, while leering salaciously at Sara before disappearing around the corner.   
  
  
tbc  
*********************************************************  
p.s. Gabriel isn't telapathic. Nottingham was just being paranoid. He keeps referring to Gabriel as a boy. This would probably start to annoy a guy who's in his twenties. It was just a coincidence that it worked out the way it did. 


	5. thank you's

I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing.   
  
I just realized that in my rush to get the last two chapters up, I'd not thanked any of the wonderful people who are cheering me on and giving me the confidence to keep going with this story. I feel like an ass for forgetting. Your reviews warm my heart and give me 'happy face'.  
  
I am currently reworking the dreaded 'Nancy Drew' chapter. Right now Kenny's part is a bit over the top or perhaps way over the top and I'm trying to decide if I should reign him in a little.   
  
For anyone who's gotten this far and is wondering what the heck is going on, this next chapter should answer quite a few questions.   
  
Again, 'Thank you' to everyone. 


	6. the dreaded Nancy Drew

I'd like to thank roguegal17. Not only for fixing all my mistakes but for providing amazing insight into the characters *especially the one she has dubbed as 'the Reigning King of Badass' although I like Count Chocula as well* and her wonderful enthusiasm towards the story. I cannot thank you enough.  
  
roguegal17 you are a Godsend and a Goddess.  
  
  
The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
*warnings and excuses*   
***  
mention of blood   
swearing  
  
*********************** denotes change of scenery in this chapter.  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
  
I apologize for my flagrant favoritism/abuse of asterisks. It's not that I don't like the other symbols, I just don't trust them.  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 2  
chapter 5  
*********************************************************  
  
The Wielder stared after the black clad man. *What the hell was that leer for?* She couldn't decide if he was trying to throw her off balance or piss her off. Both reactions seemed to please him.  
  
Sara was confused as to what had just transpired but decided she could wait to find out. Her friend was tied up and bloody. Her bracelet had also started to burn just before he'd went into shock. She was worried it had done something to him. "Gabe? Sweetie, are you okay?"  
  
Gabriel seemed deep in thought. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah... A little surprised but okay."  
  
Setting the Tome by the toilet tank cover, Sara sat down and held him. "Oh god, Gabriel, I am so sorry." Tears escaped the hardened detective's eyes. She had been sure Nottingham was going to slit her friend's throat when he failed to answer him. She released Gabriel to study his face. His pupils weren't dilated anymore. He seemed pretty calm despite what he'd just been through. "I was so scared," She murmured. "If he ever comes near you again, I swear I will rip-"   
  
"Actually, Sara... I think he just saved my ass."  
  
"What? Gabriel he - Oh God, you're still bleeding." Blood was seeping from both cuts and pooling on the ridge of the ridiculous dog collar. "Hold on, I'll get something," she assured and disappeared into the bathroom.  
  
"They trashed your bathroom too?" Sara yelled while stepping over the medicine cabinet that had been torn from the wall.   
  
Gabriel groaned in response.  
  
"Were they actually searching for something or just really pissed off?" The Witchblade had shown her men rifling through his stuff but it hadn't looked this bad.  
  
While Sara searched for supplies Gabriel tried to remove the collar but the buckle was being difficult. Sighing, he gave up and attacked the binding at his ankles. Nottingham's knots were impressive.   
  
Sara came back with some cloths and ointment while Gabriel was muttering something about Boyscouts and wrestling with the knot.  
  
"Oh hon, I'll take care of that. Just sit back and let me take care of you...little twerp" Sara added, when Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise and disbelief. He had never seen THIS side of her. It was hard to believe this was the same woman that crushed beer cans on guy's heads. The Wielder pulled him into her lap and tended to his cuts.  
  
"Mmmm this is nice, I should get boo boo's more often," he cooed against her neck.   
  
"If you ever get injured on purpose, Gabriel Bowman, I will FINISH the job and you KNOW I can do it!" Sara retorted. Once the cuts were bandaged she unbuckled the leash to clean his crimson neck and shoulder. Removing the offending object, Sara asked, "Why did he have you on a leash?"  
  
"He said it was convenient," Gabriel replied.  
  
That sounded like a Nottingham answer. "You're looking pretty comfy there, Gabe. How many laps have you been in tonight?" Sara muttered, grabbing another cloth. There was a lot more blood than she'd thought. The second cut was deeper. His undershirt was soaked. "Ah, only two," He replied. "Yours is much nicer, especially since you don't have a gun jabbing me in the ass." Sara froze in her ministrations then decided not to comment.  
  
"Okay Bowman," She said, shoving him off her lap. "Your shirt is soaked. You're gonna need a bath."   
  
"You know, Sara, I am capable of bathing myself...but if you wanna join me..." He raised an eyebrow suggestively. This earned him a cuff in the head.   
  
"You're filthy all over," Sara commented.  
  
"It was just a suggestion," Gabriel complained.  
  
"I'm talking about your clothes, Gabe, what did Nottingham drag you through."  
  
"An alley, it was mostly bouncing though." *Sara winced* "I wished I'd used my fighting style sooner."  
  
"Fighting style?" Sara queried.  
  
"Yeah, run really fast." He quipped.  
  
***********************  
  
The danger was not over for Ian Nottingham. He had called Randy, the stiff handler to dispose of the bodies but he still had to face his Master, Irons.  
  
The Bowman boy was lucky. He could have ended up spending the rest of the evening being tortured by the Sufult thug who was stalking him or Irons himself. Instead he was probably getting coddled and cooed over, by Ian's Lady Sara. Again, he regretted his initial decision not to break the legs.   
  
When Ian had been alerted to movement on one of his Talismaniac monitors, he'd immediately recognized one of the intruders as a member of the Sufult Sect. Apparently the assassin wasn't the only one whose suspicions were piqued by the b-Mr. Bowman's recent activities.   
  
The Sufult wouldn't deliberately provoke Irons unless something big was at stake. And trying to retrieve what Kenneth Irons had 'acquired' from them was a provocation.  
  
The Tome was believed to be written in Enochian, a very ancient language. The translations of that language were scarce and Gabriel had somehow managed to find and meet with the reclusive owner of a very comprehensive set of translations.   
  
The Sufult must have monitored either Gabriel or the hermitic linguist and came to the same conclusion. *The Tome must be open.* The assassin had to act quickly. He hadn't had time to alert his master to the situation at the time but he was quite certain Irons would be aware of the raid by now. Kenneth Irons was rarely in the dark about anything concerning the Witchblade.   
  
Ian stalked towards his inevitable Interrogation. He would have to choose his words very carefully.   
  
As he entered the study, Irons greeted him with a cool glare.  
  
"So, the Tome has been opened and yet I do not see it in your hands, Ian. You will not tell me that the Sufult have foiled you," Irons threatened, caressing his cane as he slowly advanced on his servant.  
  
"They have not, Sir. They have been 'dealt' with," Ian responded, bowing his head.  
  
"Then why don't you have it, Ian?" Asked Irons, groping the back of a chair.  
  
"The Sufult were mistaken in their alarm. The boy has managed the first puzzle." *He didn't mention he'd managed the second and possibly the third as well*   
  
As Kenneth drew near the assassin, Ian continued. "He has maneuvered the outer casing to reveal The Witchblade Tome in its book form, however, it requires a key. The symbols surrounding the lock are Enochian, the same language the Tome is believed to be written in. Thus, the false alarm," Ian replied, trying to concentrate and not ponder the new rug.  
  
"Still, they may attempt to retrieve it again," Kenneth insisted, stroking Ian's arm.  
  
"They have 'acquired' the replica created for this purpose," the assassin assured.  
  
"They may discover the ruse." Irons retorted while fondling Nottingham's hair.  
  
"That is true, Master. If it is perceived as a fraud, they will react swiftly." Ian agreed while wondering if his Master was attempting to braid his hair, as both hands were now fiddling with his locks. His intimidation techniques were highly inventive. "I have left the Tome in the hands of the Wielder. They will not confront her."  
  
Iron's seemed to ponder this as he disentangled his fingers from Ian's mane, painfully yanking a few hairs out in the process. "They might use the boy as bait," he suggested.  
  
Having had first hand experience at a similar ploy he did not envy anyone else who attempted it. His groin gave a sympathetic twinge. "I will return to monitor his safety at once, master."  
  
"Good." Kenneth stated, managing a pat on Ian's rear as the assassin quickly retreated out of the room. He wished Irons would take up knitting or any other hobby that would occupy his frisky hands.   
  
***********************  
  
"So, Gabriel. What happened here," Sara asked after freeing Gabriel's legs. "What is going on?"  
  
"At the moment not much," He replied sleepily. "Nottingham is probably reporting to Irons and I have two dead bodies in my flat." *And possibly thousands of dollars worth of broken relics* he thought miserably. He was insured, of course, but money can't bring back some things.  
  
"Six," Sara corrected. Gabriel raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I found four bodies piled in your kitchen when I went to get the Tome," Sara explained. "So who are these people, why were they here?" Sara nodded towards the remains of 'Tank man'.  
  
"Nottingham said they were from some secret sect that is after the Witchblade, but too wussy to actually confront the Wielder. He didn't tell me the name of the sect. Apparently they knew I had the Tome and got worried when I started asking around for less common translations of Enochian writing. There aren't many to begin with and the ones I have aren't complete. There are some symbols in the Tome that I have no translation for," Gabriel explained.  
  
Sara contemplated this for a moment before wondering how persistent this sect was. "What if they come back, send more men to come get it?"  
  
"Nottingham didn't seem worried about that so I'm not getting my undies worked up over it. Besides, I'm tired," The young man complained while sinking further into the demolished sofa.  
  
The picture still wasn't clear to Sara and the Blade wasn't helping. Nottingham's cryptic statements had certainly made no sense. "If they knew you had it all this time why didn't they get it back before?"  
  
"Well, no one has managed to open it for thousands of years, as far as I know," Gabriel stated. "It isn't really useful to anyone if it's unopened. I still think it's odd that you've never seen this uh, Guzar guy. He's supposed to be part of the legacy."  
  
"Maybe somebody killed him," Sara suggested morbidly.  
  
"Nah, It says he's immortal, as in Immortal everlasting," Gabriel argued.  
  
"Maybe you translated it wrong," Sara suggested before addressing the issue that was really bothering her. "I'm still confused about Ian's part in all this and why he did what he did."  
  
Gabriel took a deep breath. "Irons stole the Tome from the sect and had it basically 'sent' to me, according to Nottingham. I'm guessing he thought that if it was in the hands of someone who was trying to help the Wielder, that the blade itself would aid the person. According to that one part of the Tome I told you about, it tends to sort of cause coincidences, along with that Guzar guy."  
  
Gabriel's eyes widened slightly and went soft, as if he'd just realized something and was sorting it out.  
  
"Gabe? Gabe, what is it?" Sara asked when she noticed his expression. She had known about that particular aspect of the blade but had never mentioned it to Gabriel.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, I just thought of something. Some strange-I dunno, unusual looking old guy was always hanging around the place where I found the key. There was something odd about the whole thing but it's probably just coincidence."   
  
"Anyway," Gabriel continued. "Nottingham said that Irons had planned to recover the Tome once I'd opened it." Gabriel shuddered when he realized that once he'd opened it his usefulness would have ended. Based on Nottingham's brutality and thoroughness his master would no doubt off him to tie up loose ends.  
  
"So why didn't he even try to open it?" This question had been burning in her mind ever since the assassin had ordered Gabriel to give it to her.  
  
"When he saw the lock and the writing around it he had his excuse, I guess," Gabriel replied.  
  
"His excuse?" *Gabriel was starting to sound like Nottingham. She was definitely going to make sure they didn't spend any more time together.*  
  
"Yeah. Sara, we have to keep all this stuff a secret okay? Not ever mention it again."  
  
"Okay," Sara agreed, "but I still don't understand."  
  
"I don't think Nottingham was lying, Sara, he does seem to want to protect you but he said he can't lie to his master. Whatever is going on there, I don't get. I don't think he really wants Irons to get the Witchblade Tome, though. I think he's stalling for something."  
  
Sara rubbed her forehead. *Well, that's a relief she wasn't expecting.*  
  
"So, that's all I can think of for now." Gabriel sighed. "I really don't want to recount my quality time with the guy who put a leash on me. Can I go to bed now?" He pleaded. "I'm so tired."  
  
Gabriel had a few expressions that melted Sara. He was wearing one of them now. "Sure kid," she acquiesced. "But not here. I don't care if Nottingham thinks you're safe. I'm not leaving you alone. Besides, you need a bath and your tub is..."  
  
"They broke my tub? How in the hell do you break a tub?"  
  
"I don't know, but it's filled with the rest of the contents of your bathroom. Go grab whatever you need. You're staying with me tonight."  
  
"Um, what about all the dead people?" Gabriel paused to ask on his way to his bedroom.  
  
"That's Nottingham's mess, let him clean it up," Sara replied casually.   
  
  
  
********************************  
  
I concur with Gabe, so tired, but divamercury, I understand impatience fully. You nudged, I quailed and roguegal set the muses loose. Everyone,...run.   
  
p.s.  
The symptoms of Gabe's state of shock, described in the previous chapter, were drawn from my personal experience, though I imagine they vary from person to person. I still had slight tremors five hours later.  
  
Guzar is Lazar. From what I gleamed from a site whose addy I now cannot find (I was positive I bookmarked it); Enochian predates Sanskrit and is described as a magical and very guttural language. Personally I tend to associate most words or names beginning with 'L' as French (Yes, I am weird), which is not a very guttural language. The idea that the pronunciation and spelling of his name would change through the centuries appealed to me. Consequentially, The idea that Sara and Gabe would know something that Irons didn't also seemed pretty nifty.   
  
Yes, that was Guzar/Lazar hanging about to draw Gabriel's attention to something. (The key, basically)  
  
Also, If anyone is wondering why Ian's hair is fancy free and not tied, well, he was about to walk his dog when he had to spring into assassin action. He's been a busy guy but I'm sure he'll tidy it once he gets a chance.  
  
Again, Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It means the world to me and is basically the reason I keep writing. 


	7. awry

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses*   
***  
NUDITY! Actual male nudity. Not graphic nudity, though. *whew!*  
The muse who instigated that part of the story is one sick puppy.   
If even the mere mention of nudity scandalizes you, I apologize and   
suggest you run far, far away from this chapter.  
  
Amazingly, no swearing. Hopefully that makes up for the other crime. I doubt it, though.  
  
  
*********************** denotes change of scenery in this chapter.  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
***signals a specific POV  
  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 2  
chapter 6  
*********************************************************  
  
  
Gabriel emerged from his bedroom after a gasp of dismay, some mournful muttering and extensive rustling noises. He had a backpack in his hand and looked despondent, to say the least.  
  
"Um, do you suppose it would be easy to find my toothbrush in there?" He pointed to the demolished bathroom.  
  
"Don't worry kid, I've got a spare" Sara assured him while picking up the Tome. The pages of the book fused as the bracelet came into contact with it. "Uh..."  
  
Gabriel noticed and commented. "It's better in that state for now, anyway. You only need to touch it again with twitchy there, to unseal the pages and I still have the Key." He held open his backpack for her.  
  
Sara placed the Tome in Gabriel's bag and they headed for her Buell.  
  
Tired as he was, it took every ounce of energy to clasp her waist for the ride to her apartment. Helmet-less, he buried his head in Sara's neck to absorb the violent vibrations of the motorbike.  
  
***  
  
Sara rode home with nearly the same level of fear as when she'd left it. Gabe was gripping her very unsteadily. A few times his hold had weakened to the point where she was afraid he would simply lose his grip altogether and fall from the bike. She wished she'd strapped him to herself. Hell, he'd already been leashed tonight, what could it hurt?  
  
So, with much relief she pulled the Buell up to her space by her apartment.   
  
***  
  
Gabe gave an exhausted sigh as he slid off the bike and followed her up to her flat, regretting his decision to forgo sleep the night before in favor of research. Upon entering her flat he headed straight for the couch and collapsed. The tremors had stopped, as far as he could tell, but they had sapped his energy even more than the lack of sleep. Dimly, he was aware of Sara demanding he strip for a bath and something about defiling her bed. He turned his face into her sofa and hoped she'd relent. But Sara was Sara.  
  
With sleepy eyes and a sadly weak gait, he was dragged to the (unbroken) bath that smelled amazingly inviting and allowed himself to be unclothed down to his boxers before coming to his senses and assuring Sara he would take them off before climbing in.  
  
Sara wanted to stay and make sure he didn't pass out and drown in the tub *it would be an ironic death, considering all he had been through* but Gabriel didn't like the idea of his bath being supervised. "No nookie Ð no supervision, 'm not a kid," he muttered, pointing a bar of soap at her.  
  
With a final warning not to get his bandages wet, Sara left him to his privacy. She wondered where Nottingham was. The fire escape was empty.   
  
She sat down to ponder Ian's intentions and examined Gabriel's outrageous necklace. It was a gaudy plastic locket with 'She Ra Princess of Power' emblazoned over the cartoon image of a scantily clad female. For someone who doesn't like being referred to as a kid his accessories sure screamed the opposite, thought Sara, as she fiddled with the latch.   
  
She knew she probably shouldn't be snooping through his stuff, but she was curious to see if he'd stuck something funky inside. "Probably a He-Man secret decoder ring," she snickered.   
  
The latch was pretty tricky for a child's toy but Sara finally managed it. *Well it's similar to a secret decoder ring,* she thought as she gazed at the Key, which looked completely out of place in it's encasing.   
  
She snapped the locket shut and wondered if Gabriel was really that clever to hide something important inside such an innocuous object, or just plain weird. The 'princess of power' aspect did fit in with his quirky humor.   
  
Thinking of Gabriel, she decided to check on him. He had been in the bath for a while now and had been quiet too long. Sara peeked into the room. His mouth had disappeared in the bubbles; his nose was following suit. With a mad panic she lunged at the tub and yanked him out of the water.   
  
"What the-" Startled out of his nap he flailed wildly, sending suds and water everywhere.   
  
"Sh, shh, Gabe. Settle down, it's me, it's me," Sara insisted as she tried to restrain slippery limbs.  
  
Gabe gathered his wits. "Hey, hey!" he yelped, pointedly glancing where one hand was gripping him. "Oh sure, I can't even get a kiss but you can get all gropey with me when I'm asleep."  
  
"Gabriel, this is no place for a nap," Sara berated him.   
  
*****************************  
  
Ian had returned to Talismanic to monitor Gabriel but the flat was empty except for Randy, the corpse cleaner and his assistant. Randy was wheeling an industrial laundry cart out the door while his assistant; Roy was mopping up blood where 'Tank man' had lain.  
  
"Y'know, Nottingham," Roy grumbled, "you're usually not this messy. You losing your touch or something?"   
  
The assassin was incensed that the fool would question his competence. Rather than explain himself he decided to say something cryptic to shut him up. "A man who assuages his fears with trivial distractions creates his own demise," he stated with a sinister smile.   
  
Roy stared at him blankly.  
  
"Have you seen Gabriel Bowman?" Ian asked Roy. It would be too soon for the Sufult to notice any flaws in the replica and send someone to capture the young man. However, he had spent nearly the entire night in the realm of the unpredictable.  
  
Again, Roy stared at him blankly. "Gabriel?"  
  
"The young man who lives here," Ian clarified; thinking his earlier statement shouldn't have distracted the man that badly.  
  
"Ah, we waited for him to leave with hot chick," Roy replied casually.  
  
"She is Lady Sara, not hot chick," Ian hotly corrected the insolent man.  
  
The assassin swiftly secured one gloved hand threateningly around a startled Roy's neck. "I want surveillance of the Talismaniac flat until my return," Nottingham growled darkly. "I will be alerted if anyone enters the premises. Do you understand, Roy?" he asked, leaning in close to the frightened man's face.   
  
Roy sincerely regretted the 'hot chick' reference. Ian Nottingham was an imposing man as a rule, but Roy had never witnessed him displeased. He had heard stories and knew he was not a man to cross, but he'd never come into direct contact with his ire. "Um, uh...yes, yes sir," he sputtered, trembling in fear and pain.  
  
"Good." Nottingham responded, watching the man's face as he idly tested the strength of Roy's tracheal cartilage. Ian noticed the man was starting to hyperventilate, so he released him. The man couldn't take care of duties unconscious, he thought disappointedly.  
  
As soon as the assassin released him, Roy grasped at his aching throat. *Gods, the man almost killed him for...for what? Insulting a girl?*  
  
***  
The first place the Sufult would look for the young man would be his flat. Even though the potential bait was most likely safe in the Wielder's care, Irons had ordered Nottingham to guard Gabriel. The assassin would have to rely on the feedback from surveillance to find out if the ruse had failed or succeeded.   
  
Leaving the demolished flat containing the trembling Roy, Ian Nottingham was swiftly on his way to the home of his lovely Lady Sara.  
  
  
tbc  
  
*********************************************************  
Where are the corpses? Why they are in the laundry hamper that Randy wheeled away, of course.  
  
I apologize for whatever muse caused that bathroom scene. It honestly wasn't supposed to go that way. You gentle readers who have braved this chapter might be consoled by the fact that it has caused me misery also, as there is now a possible wrench in the storyline that I have to deal with. Be afraid be very afraid. I am.  
  
Again, I'd like to thank the wonderful people who have sent their appreciation and warm reviews. They seem to be feeding the muses, if not attracting new and unpredictable ones. ;-)  
  
Repeat reviews are WONDERFUL. It tells me that I'm still doing okay and that readers are still interested. Even a 'keep going' is great to me. This is the first time I've written a story since childhood so I am very nervous about what people make of it.  
  
On a side note, I believe I have managed to reign in the story to a moderate level of normalcy in the next chapter. It's just not finished yet. 


	8. tempers and tells, bruises and brawls bu

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included. Some restrictions may apply.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses*   
***  
NUDITY, again. Not graphic nudity, though. *whew!*  
That muse has got to be 'put down'.  
  
If even the mere mention of nudity scandalizes you, I apologize and   
suggest you run far, far away from this chapter also.  
  
Swearing too.   
  
Abuse of asterisks again. Yup, looks like I'm gonna burn.  
  
*********************** denotes change of scenery in this chapter also.  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
***signals a specific POV  
  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 2  
chapter 7  
*********************************************************  
Ian Nottingham gracefully navigated the familiar fire escape.  
  
Arriving at his usual perch, the assassin paused to tidy his errant locks. Pulling a pristine black hairband from it's designated pocket, he pulled back his mane and secured it in a ponytail.  
  
He silently approached Sara's window and peered inside.  
  
***********************  
  
Sara released Gabriel, lowering him back into the sudsy water. "Ow," he rubbed the abused body part. "That's gonna bruise for sure."  
  
"Well, If you would have calmed down sooner instead of flailing like a madman." Sara complained. It was an accident but she felt like a debaucher just the same. She'd obviously frightened her friend.  
  
"I don't see how goosing me would help me calm down. GOD, I thought you were Nottingham!" Gabriel cringed.  
  
"Nottingham! How in the hell could you mistake me for Nottingham?" barked Sara.  
  
'I woke up with strong hands grabbing me and long dark hair in my face. You put it together." Gabriel grumbled. "You ARE freakishly strong."   
  
"Well I didn't do it on purpose, you were slippery," Sara rejoined.  
  
"Hmph, you can tell that to the hand-shaped bruise I'll be sporting on my ass." He retorted.   
  
Sara chuckled, "You sure are cranky when you're tired."  
  
"Damn straight," Gabriel avowed.  
  
As Sara reached for a relatively dry towel Gabriel's eyes suddenly went wide and he froze, staring past Sara.   
  
Sara turned to see the wall of black that appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Nottingham! What in the hell are you doing here?" She demanded, handing Gabriel the towel. "Looking for a peep show?" She added while Gabriel quickly grasped the towel to himself, half of it soaking in the bathwater.  
  
"Hardly." The assassin replied. "I was sent to assure Mr. Irons of the boy's safety." He stressed the word 'boy'. "I heard sounds of conflict so I let myself in."  
  
"Broke in," Sara corrected.  
  
"It appears the boy is safe," he stated blandly. "At least...," he turned to Sara as a wolfish grin slowly spread across his face "...from the sect," he appended. "Getting lonely, Sara?"  
  
Sara knew he was baiting her. *Don't fall for it, don't lose it, stay calm, ignore him, let it go, he want's you to blow up...* "PISS OFF Nottingham!" she screamed and launched at him.  
  
***  
Ian couldn't contain his glee. He grinned from ear to ear as the raving she devil pummeled and yanked him across the apartment, all the while unleashing the most colorful and obscene insults. Just when he thought he was about to come undone from her passionate fury, she stopped and glared at him.   
  
"That's IT, Nottingham! OUT! Get out!" Sara barked, panting furiously.  
  
Ian managed to force his feral grin down to a pleased smile. "As you wish, Sara." He replied and bowed before backing towards the window, enjoying the view. He couldn't resist one last, parting comment. "I really like what you've done with that ensemble." He grinned and disappeared out the window.  
  
***  
Sara looked down at herself. She was soaking wet. He was damn lucky he could escape so quickly.  
  
She turned back towards the bathroom. Gabriel was standing in the doorway, wrapped in a towel. "You know, you really shouldn't let him get to you like that," he stated calmly.   
  
***  
A split second later Gabriel was behind a locked bathroom door and wishing that the angry Wielder outside said door, would find someone else to vent her anger on. *No, that hadn't been the smartest thing to say at that moment* he thought with chagrin.  
  
He decided to wait for her to calm down and tried to make himself comfy on the floor. *At least I can finally sleep,* he thought before drifting off.  
***   
  
Eventually Sara calmed. She felt awful for letting the rage take over her, Gabriel's belated advice had seemed like a taunt. Now the already traumatized young man was locked in her bathroom to protect himself from her.   
  
To top it all off, she'd noticed one of the bandages weeping. He'd gotten it wet of course, and was losing blood.  
  
"Gabriel?" She waited, no response. "Gabe? Honey I'm so sorry, you were right, I shouldn't have fallen for that." She waited for his familiar "told you so" but she was met with silence.  
  
"Gabe?"  
  
Nothing. She decided to bust the door open. Gabriel was curled up on the floor, snoozing like a child. Pressing a towel to his neck, she lifted him gently and carried him to her bed. She checked his pulse as she pressed on the cut, halting the small flow of blood. It wasn't too bad but he'd already lost a decent amount and she dreaded to think how much he'd lost while asleep in the tub. As she was about to rise to get new bandages, Nottingham appeared by her side.   
  
"Jesus, Nottingham, are you trying to set a record for break-in's?" She hissed, trying not to disturb Gabriel.  
  
"Sara," he greeted her. A first aid kit was in his extended, gloved hand.   
  
"Thanks," she muttered as she took it. "This is your fault, you know," she accused the assassin while redressing Gabriel's wounds.  
  
"For you bruising his hindquarter or him locking himself in the bathroom?" Nottingham snorted.  
  
Sara responded with a glare. "Knock it off, Nottingham, I'm not in the mood," Sara's eyes widened suddenly as comprehension hit her. "Have you been lurking this entire time?" That whole incident in the bathroom was actually very embarrassing. Although she'd managed to brush it off with Gabe she wasn't particularly happy that Ian knew she had grabbed Gabriel's rear.  
  
"I am on orders to assure Gab-the boy's safety regarding the Sufult," the assassin explained.   
  
Ian was still slightly irked that Gabriel had been the object of Sara's advances, even though the foolish brat didn't seem to appreciate his good fortune.   
  
"I thought the kit might help." He added, nodding towards the first aid kit and feeling incredibly proud of his thoughtfulness.  
  
Sara was thrown by his behavior and wondered what he was up to. "What's the Sufult and why is Iron's concerned about Gabriel, anyway." Sara asked, expecting to get some unfathomable haiku as a reply.  
  
"He's not," Nottingham smirked. "He is concerned about the Tome. Master wishes to be the only one privy to the information within it. The Sufult is the sect that is after the Tome."   
  
The assassin had decided to grace Sara with simple answers instead of cryptic puzzles, secretly hoping this approach would confuse her more or perhaps sway her view of him. Besides, other things were distracting him at the moment, making it difficult to concentrate on choosing his words carefully.   
  
"I have placed the Tome in your care, as the Sufult are not likely to openly confront you. However," he continued, "Mr. Irons is concerned that they may kidnap your friend to extract information from him or hold him hostage in exchange for the Tome."   
  
"Either way, if the Sufult discover they have acquired a fraud or are desirous of the key they will come for Mr. Bowman," Ian concluded while gazing intently at Sara.   
  
"I hate to bring this up, but why not in exchange for the blade itself?" The Wielder queried, wondering how long the assassin would be cooperative. She still didn't understand the reference to a fraud.  
  
"The blade would not allow it. Besides, you are far more likely to part with the Tome," the assassin explained as he retreated from the room. He paused at the doorway. "If you should have need of me, Sara, I am near." He offered before disappearing from view.  
  
Sara stared at the doorway incredulously, pondering the astounding fact that Nottingham had actually given her straight answers. Although she'd noticed that Nottingham's eyes did keep drifting to her wet shirt.   
  
*Well, with Batman guarding the place, I guess it's safe to get some shut-eye,* Sara concluded. She really didn't want to sleep on the couch where 'Mr. chest oggler' could drool over her all night but she didn't have the heart to chuck gabe on it either. The bedroom was also a safer place for him.   
  
Sara sighed and turned back to Gabriel. He was out like a light and wouldn't even notice if he had a bedmate, she decided. After swiftly changing into a dry shirt and some boxers, she slid into bed beside him.  
  
"I am so glad this night is over," Sara muttered faintly. She checked Gabriel's pulse once more and ran a hand through his damp hair before drifting off to sleep.   
  
  
  
********************************  
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I can't go home for Christmas due to a storm so I am forced to stay in and occupy myself. Hmmm, what to do, what to do. After much deliberation I decided to wrap up this chapter. I know, I'm pathetic.  
  
If Rougegal117 ever posts a story I advise you to check it out. Her emails alone are an enjoyable read. Her comments on my bi-polar muses are hilarious.  
  
If you are curious to know what part of the bathroom conversation Ian overheard read below.   
  
  
***********************~~~~  
S: "Well I didn't do it on purpose, you were slippery."  
  
G: "Hmph, you can tell that to the hand-shaped bruise I'll be sporting on my ass."   
  
S: "You sure are cranky when you're tired."  
  
G: "Damn straight."  
  
What mental images Ian gleaned from this dialog, I cannot say. I don't blame him for coming to the conclusion he did, though.   
***********************~~~~  
  
Thanks again, to the lovely people who have taken the time to review this.   
  
I am honored that such wonderful writers have taken the time to read my little foray into fanfiction. I'm enjoying reading Dragongrrl's 'A family affair', now that I'm not wrestling with this monster. I'd somehow missed that story before. It's a wonderful read and amazingly descriptive, makes me kinda wince when I look back at my stuff. I hope the holidays find you all happy.   
  
p.s.  
Ann, yes, it's true. Other than a crappy little Boromir blurb that I deleted when I began this story, it is the first I've written since around 4th or 5th grade. Sheesh, maybe even third now that I think about it. Yeah, I think third. I do love reading, though. 


	9. oh dear

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included. Some restrictions may apply.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
*warnings and excuses*   
***  
  
Swearing.   
  
  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
***signals switch in POV  
  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 3  
chapter 8  
*********************************************************  
  
  
Normally, the assassin would perch outside Sara's apartment, allowing the Wielder her privacy and solitude. He was planning on maintaining his surveillance from the fire escape. However, tonight it seemed best to chaperone from inside.   
  
This decision was not based on Lady Sara's attentions to the boy or the fact that the boy was in her bed. The fact that neither one seemed to be exiting Lady Sara's bedroom also did not hold sway on his decision. Ian Nottingham sat and glared at the bedroom door.  
  
Minutes ticked by. Still no word from the surveillance of Talismaniac, no movement or signs of threat from nearby and no one exiting Sara's bedroom. Ian Nottingham eyed his silent timepiece. Twenty-six minutes. His acute hearing had picked up only gentle breathing and an occasional rustle from the room for nearly half an hour. This was ridiculous. Lady Sara wasn't actually in bed with the boy, was she?  
  
He could tell by their breathing that they were both sound asleep. The idea of fair Sara resting in an uncomfortable chair or worse, sleeping on the hard floor filled Ian with resentment. Just because the boy had a difficult evening did not mean he should inconvenience the Wielder.   
  
Perhaps he should not have alarmed her so with the threat of the Sufult. His guardianship of the boy was merely a precaution his Master had ordered. Surely she was staying close to the boy out of unnecessary concern. He decided to assuage Lady Sara's fears and allow her a decent night's rest. Silently the assassin opened the door.  
  
  
***  
A strangled squawk woke Sara. She was dimly aware of spooning someone before being shoved off her bed. As she lay sprawled on the floor she looked up to see Ian Nottingham looming over her. "What in the hell are you doing Nottingham?" she yelled, trying to figure out what was going on.  
  
"I am deeply sorry, Sara. I mistook you for one of the Sufult," Ian whispered sincerely.  
  
"The next person who mistakes me for a guy is gonna-" she threatened before realizing the implication of what he'd said. "Wait, they're here?" she asked in a panic, trying to disentangle herself from a sheet as she struggled to see if Gabriel was okay.  
  
Gabriel had woken and groggily tried to survey his surroundings. "Where'm I now?" he muttered. He turned toward the commotion at the side of the bed and screamed. He spotted Nottingham at the same time someone yanked the sheets off him.  
  
"God damn it Nottingham! Quit traumatizing him," Sara barked as she finally gained purchase of the bed.   
  
"I did nothing," Ian defended himself irritably. "Your boy screams like a girl," he added with a sneer.  
  
Gabriel, who was scrabbling for something to cover himself, snapped out a resentful "HEY!"   
  
Sara managed to get to her feet and hand the sheet to a suddenly alert but scowling Gabe. "Now, what is going on Nottingham?" Sara growled as she rubbed her aching hip.  
  
"Nothing, Sara. All is well for now," the assassin placated.   
  
Sara raised her eyebrows questioningly.  
  
"I will continue my guard duties but perhaps I should be the one to stay with the boy," Ian Nottingham suggested. He did not want Lady Sara in bed with another male, especially since she seemed unaccountable for her unconscious actions.  
  
"HELL no!" Gabriel interjected, backing himself against the headboard.  
  
Ian shot Gabriel a glare before continuing, "You need your sleep, Sara, I will alert you if anything is amiss."  
  
Sara still didn't trust the assassin. Less than four hours ago he had threatened the life he was now supposedly trying to protect. Gabriel was bearing wounds that Nottingham had inflicted and she was suspicious of any plan that Irons had instigated. To top it all off, she had begun to wonder about Ian's preferences despite his chest oggling.   
  
"I don't think so, Nottingham," Sara replied. "Gabe stays with me and you go outside. I don't care what Irons want's, I want you away from Gabriel."  
  
"You cut me, Sara," Ian Nottingham whispered, looking so sad she'd almost relented before logic returned.  
  
"Yeah, well you cut my friend," Sara pointed out. "There is no way in hell I'm leaving him alone with you."  
  
He didn't understand why Sara had gotten so upset over him trying to separate her from her pet boy. Resignedly, he turned and stalked out of the room, but not before throwing Gabriel a threatening gaze.  
  
"I saw that, Nottingham!" he heard Sara yell from the bedroom.  
  
The assassin was upset; he had made things worse. Not only would Sara most likely keep the boy closer to her, *though it was difficult to be much closer than when he found them,* but 'the current bane of his existence' would most likely be on the receiving end of a cuddlefest for being 'traumatized' by him.  
  
Unfortunately, eliminating Gabriel would definitely eliminate any chances with Lady Sara. Hopefully he could take out his frustrations on the Sufult. He would be very disappointed if he didn't get to assault someone soon. He Idly wondered how Roy was doing.  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
*********************************************************  
  
My plans for chapter nine involve no silliness. Let's hope I can actually pull it off this time.   
Mystery/suspense/action my bottum! I never understood this muse thing until one made off with my story.  
  
I cannot claim to have only one story now, though the other is actually part of this tangle. The warm reviews and nudging are responsible for this chapter. I needed a mental rest from this story but apparently muses have a quick recovery from tranquilizer darts. Who knew?  
  
A giant THANK YOU to the people who reviewed 'coincidence'.  
  
Thanks again to roguegal117. She finally wrote a story and I got to see the first part. Very cool psychological thriller, a bit scary. She has a talent for working the really dark stuff.   
  
Thank you so much for your reviews. I CAN NOT express how grateful I am. I salute you with my smiley face coffee mug. There is a site somewhere that has a screencap of Sara drinking out of that thing. The Image comments are hilarious. 


	10. Deceptions and dark days, revised

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included. Some restrictions may apply.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses*   
***  
I've sedated the bathroom muse and am back on track with the story. Whew!  
I think I just can't leave three certain characters in a room together, they do not get along.   
On the downside, we now hit the documentary part of the story. Sorry.  
  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
  
******************** in this chapter denotes change of time and perspective.  
  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 3  
chapter 9  
*****************************************  
  
  
Cloaked in secrecy, the Sufult sect had survived for thousands of years, virtually undetected by the rest of society. Yet the history of the sect has had a profound effect on civilization. Their goal being to eliminate all magical and mystical references and objects of power. To cleanse the world of heretical objects and doctrines.  
  
They had worked surreptitiously and diligently as an influence on the recording of anything mystical in history; destroying transcripts and replacing them with their own 'corrected' versions. Hunting down and decimating many mystically based doctrines; they would obtain the object of the congregation's beliefs and power. What enchanted relics they could not destroy, they banished to the deep catacombs beneath their ancient temples. It had been only a matter of time before they came for the blade.   
  
Yet, the Sufult's direct attempts at capturing the Witchblade had all failed. Resultantly they had found a more devious route to achieve their goal. They had slain the Wielder's scribe and acquired her Tome in hopes of unearthing her weaknesses.   
  
Her faithful servant, however, had sealed her memoirs inside a magical box. When they tore it from his lifeless hands, it was impregnable.   
  
  
********************  
Sufult present day, NY.  
********************  
  
Prime Consul Ralyn Damak leaned back in his chair and contemplated his predicament. His next actions may very well determine the future or demise of the Sufult. As Prime Consul of the sect, he enjoyed many luxuries and indulgences. At the moment however, he wished someone else was in his place.   
  
Consul Damak had decided, as had many of his predecessors, to have the Sufult step back and bide their time where matters of the Witchblade were concerned.   
  
When Iron's formidable assassin had paid the sect a clandestine visit, he'd left a dead guard in place of the Witchblade Tome. If it were anyone but Irons, the Sufult would have instantly and viciously retrieved the Tome. Even though it had sat uselessly for centuries.   
  
The sect had certainly shed more than its share of blood over the years but Kenneth Irons was a formidable foe. Not only was Irons ruthless and powerful but clever and arrogant as well. It would not be unconscionable for him to expose the sect to the public.  
  
Consul Damak had opted for merely monitoring Mr. Iron's actions regarding the Tome. When Irons sold it to an antique dealer the sect leader was confused. He sent his most deadly agents to retrieve it from the dealer but after three corpses were delivered to him with 'Vorschlag Industries' business cards clamped in their teeth, the Consul decided to desist.   
  
When one of the sect's spies had reported that a young man acquired the Tome and was being tailed but unhindered by Kenneth Iron's assassin, Consul Damak was thoroughly bewildered. Not wanting to risk open war with Irons over a currently benign object, Consul Damak decided to monitor the dealings with the Tome discreetly. He'd ordered his agents and spies to give Mr. Iron's assassin a wide berth until he could figure out Iron's game. He already had enough Vorschlag business cards.   
  
His agent's researched the current possessor. The young man who purchased the Tome from the antique dealer turned out to be a dealer in artifacts and talismans. It seemed odd for Irons to send it from dealer to dealer, his Assassin guarding each one in turn.   
  
While it was possible that the second dealer, Gabriel Bowman, was Irons intended final recipient of the Tome, it seemed unlikely. The information he'd acquired on the young dealer did not imply that he specialized in Witchblade lore, even though he had researched it, nor was their any indication of him possessing the Blade. Rather his research and items seemed scattered over a wide gamut of peculiarities. Consul Damak eyed the dealer's website once again, wondering what Sid Vicious's comb could possibly have in common with a Myan fertility doll. He had decided to keep an eye on the young man's dealings just the same.   
  
Now it appeared the Tome had been opened. Since the Tome was believed to be written in The Ancient language it would need to be translated. Access to Enochian translations were marked and monitored by the sect. When Brother Fohler Informed him that the young proprietor had paid a visit to the reclusive owner of an extensive set of Enochian translations he knew the young man must have managed to open the tome. Prime Consul Damak needed to retrieve the Tome immediately to foil Irons and accomplish his ancestor's goals. It would have been an easy task if Kenneth Irons and his minions weren't involved in the matter.  
  
On the one hand, Consul Damak was excited about the possible possession of a tool that could help acquire the blade. On the other hand, he dreaded Iron's reaction to his ploy.   
  
Consul Damak wondered how the assassin had found out about the sect's covert activities so quickly. He had hoped to surreptitiously grab the Tome and Gabriel before Irons found out but the assassin had already taken out the first retrieval crew and Consul Damak hadn't heard from the mercenary he had sent after the young man. He hoped the second team would have better luck.   
  
The vibration of his cellphone brought him out of his thoughts. "Prime Consul," Brother Marolt greeted.  
  
"Report," Consul Damak responded tersely.  
  
"Brother Rason has recovered the Tome," Brother Marolt stated. "The rest were lost." Brother Rason had run quite far before realizing he'd lost his pursuer. He was halfway to the secret lair before he stopped to report his find.  
  
"And the young man, Mr. Bowman?" Consul Damak queried. He knew Iron's assassin was very good at his job but Consul Damak hoped he wasn't that pertinacious. That one of his men managed to escape from the assassin with the Tome was remarkable. Perhaps he should give Brother Rason more privileges.   
  
"No word as yet," Marolt replied. "Should I keep you posted or return with brother Rason?"  
  
"What state is the Tome in, is it open?" Consul Damak demanded anxiously.   
  
"I don't believe so," Brother Marolt replied. "Brother Rason says it looks the same. No openings or indication of pages."  
  
Prime Consul Ramak took a deep breath and resisted the urge to yank his hair out. "Stay at your post, continue to monitor the place but do not make your presence known. Have Brother Bornost bring the Tome. Warn him not to be tailed. I do not want him bringing that assassin to me."  
  
"Brother Bornost is not responding to his calls," Marolt responded.  
  
Consul Damak pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fine, send Brother Rason then, but you stay, and get someone to do surveillance of the back entrance to the building. Find out what happened to Bornost," he ordered, even though he had a pretty good idea of what happened to Bornost.  
  
"Yes, Prime Consul," Brother Marolt replied before doling out his orders.  
  
Consul Damak breathed a heavy sigh. The Tome was sealed, he'd lost over a dozen men to get back a useless object and the sect would probably draw fire from Irons for his actions.   
  
His men had better find Mr. Bowman. He had to have opened the tome, otherwise why would he go through so much trouble to examine those Enochian transcripts. A sudden fear hit Consul Ramak. *What if Irons has Gabriel?* It didn't appear Gabriel Bowman was working for Irons, but there was no doubt in Consul Ramak's mind that this machination had been orchestrated by the man. Kenneth Irons would definitely force the young man to expose the Key and send his assassin after the Witchblade Tome   
  
The Consul was well aware of Iron's interest in the blade, although the Sufult had been careful not to interfere with his schemes up till now. If Irons somehow got his hands on the blade or discovered how to control the Wielder he might have even more ammunition to assault the sect.   
  
They needed to get the Key. The Sufult had been unaware of the Key's existence when they had captured the Tome. Reference of the Key surfaced years afterwards, in lore that had survived the Sufult's cleansing.   
  
Unbeknownst to the Sufult at the time, the scribe had carried it. What it looked like or how it worked was a mystery, as there appeared to be no openings or markings on the Tome. The lay said only that the scribe's daughter had kept it in remembrance of him.  
  
Despite his misgivings the path was clear. He gestured one of his attendants to him.   
  
"Alert the Enforcers. I want Gabriel Bowman, alive. Bring him to me." Consul Damak ordered. The war with Irons had begun.   
  
  
  
  
*****************************************  
Consul - the chief magistrate  
pertinacious - resolute; tenacious; persistent; resourceful.  
Lay - A simple song; ballad.  
a/n You can destroy a manuscript but ya can't get those damn yokels to stop singing.  
  
Oh, Ann : Whaaaa? *Looks through story* I did no' promise Gabriel bait. Potential is a variable, as any good Law student would - hmm, yup, doesn't look good. I'd hoped to save him from this. Gabe seems so nice, I'd hate to hurt him.  
  
Thank you so much for reviewing, I am terrified that you will stop reviewing and abhor me for this chapter, yes it does get darker, sorry, events have been set in motion. But muses are capricious.  
  
roguegal17, ann, pequenop, Riyallyn (you aren't the same Brynn that wrote the utterly hysrerical and brilliant LOTR fic 'Out of the frying pan' are you?), Spin, LaFemmeLurker, read a book, Divamercury, dragongrrl, magicks, kitsa76, Nanz. Thank you all for taking the time to review. I would like to take a break and read some great stories instead of wrestling with this evil monster. Nasty muses.   
  
I appologize for ripping the story down and rewriting, I was hasty and am being so again. I apologize. Unprecedented holiday. 


	11. monition

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included. Some restrictions may apply.  
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
The Tome and Key are mine.   
  
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses*   
***  
Reference to violence and copious amounts of blood.  
Bathroom muse is still down for the count. I kinda miss it's shenanigans.  
  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
  
***denotes specific POV  
  
  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
Part 3  
chapter 10  
*****************************************  
  
  
Sara Pezzini was utterly perplexed and disconcerted.  
  
Nottingham's behavior, while usually enigmatic was becoming outright eccentric. Judging by his actions she couldn't decide if he was insanely jealous of Gabriel or herself. She couldn't believe he'd shoved her out of bed. Of course, if Nottingham had knocked Gabe out of bed she would have slaughtered the assassin. The dog collar and spreading Gabe over his knees still confused and disturbed her, as did his insistence of watching over her friend.  
  
Gabriel's soft voice brought her out of her speculations. "Sara?... What's going on?" he asked tentatively.  
  
She turned to consider his pale and bewildered countenance. It was framed by a dark mane in utter disarray. The poor kid looked beat. He needed rest to recover and Nottingham's antics surely hadn't helped that cause. "Nothing amazing, there's been no sign of the Sufult, Nottingham is deranged and you've got a bad case of bedhead," Sara answered lightly. "You need to get some sleep," she urged.   
  
"The Sufult?" Gabriel inquired as Sara leaned over to tuck him in. She tried to calm his disheveled hair but it was a lost cause. By now Gabriel had deduced that he was in Sara's bedroom. He'd been pondering how he'd gotten there, what the assassin had been doing in the room and why Sara was on the floor when Sara mentioned the Sufult.   
  
"So they still exist?" he questioned, not very pleased that this grave news was spoiling his enjoyment of being petted by the Wielder. Gabriel's brow furrowed in dismay. This was not good.   
  
"Nottingham said it was the name of the sect that's after the Tome," Sara confirmed. Noting Gabriel's expression, she grew concerned. "What's wrong? Who are they?" Sara implored.  
  
"They're the one's who stole the Tome from the Wielder," he replied while struggling to sit up despite Sara's protesting hands. "Where is the Tome?" he asked as he scanned the room for his backpack. There was a slight panic in his voice.  
  
Sara didn't understand why Gabriel was suddenly upset. She wished she'd not mentioned the Sufult now, it was bad enough that Nottingham had alarmed him. "Gabe, the pages are fused, it's safe so don't worry about it. I'm here and the crazed assassin is guarding the place, probably pining for a fight," Sara assured. But Gabriel would not be appeased.  
  
"I need to seal it," he complained as Sara forcefully held him down.   
  
"Take it easy, Gabe," She admonished. "It's under the bed." She had nudged Gabe's backpack under her bed after Nottingham's last deviant intrusion. For some bizarre reason she'd pictured the assassin rifling through Gabriel's belongings and it bothered her.   
  
"I need to lock and seal it," he implored. "please let me see it."  
  
"Okay, okay," Sara relented, releasing him and fetching his bag.  
  
When she handed him the backpack Gabriel peered inside and heaved a sigh of relief before looking back up at Sara. "Could I have a glass of water?" he asked before adding that he was thirsty and wanted to put some clothes on.  
  
"Sure thing, kid," she replied before heading to the kitchen for a glass. She was curious about the sudden change of subject after all of his fuss over the Tome but decided he was probably too frazzled from the chaotic evening to keep a straight line of thought. She gave a warning knock on the door before reentering the room.  
  
Gabriel was sitting on the bed, wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt with the Tome in his lap. When Sara handed him the glass of water she noticed that the face of the lock had changed slightly. He'd already used the Key.  
  
She watched as he gently stroked the surface of the Tome, seeming to draw out the panels magically. For a moment her mind took a detour and she quickly slammed on the brakes.   
  
Focusing on his messy hair, Sara wondered why he seemed to be hiding the key from her. She had planned to tease him about its chosen packaging but now she felt guilty for snooping. It also struck her as odd that her friend would hide something from her.   
  
Sure, she hid lots of things from him. But that was her and he was Gabriel, open, honest, faithful. The bracelet on her wrist warmed slightly and she felt a sudden pang of loss.   
  
An image of Gabriel lying lifeless in a pool of blood suddenly took her by surprise and she heard her own voice release a horribly pained, blood-curdling scream. She blinked and saw her friend alive and ensconcing the Tome.   
  
No, the Gabriel she saw now was not the one she'd seen in the pool of blood. His hair was much shorter and he looked slightly younger than the man in the vision did. She suspected it was a vision from a long lost past but at the same time it seemed terribly near.   
  
Gabriel had apparently finished sealing the Tome and was eyeing her with a worried expression. "You look disturbed, time traveling again?" he chided with a chuckle, but the humor did not reach his eyes.   
  
Sara reached over to assure him but the moment her hand made contact she was assaulted with visions. Vividly horrific images revealing the vicious slaying of the man who resembled her friend flashed through her mind. When the Blade finally released her she was filled with horror and grief. Seeing Gabriel alive but holding the same object, she reacted by capturing him in a death grip and bursting into tears.  
  
Gabriel was unprepared for this sudden and slightly painful display of emotion. He worried the state of his ribs. If he thought she was freakishly strong before, he had underestimated her strength. He wondered what had caused this sudden outburst. He would have tried to reassure her with words, but she'd squeezed the breath from him. Struggling to remain conscious he managed to stroke her back soothingly until her grip loosened.   
  
"Tis okay, it's okay," he heard himself murmur once he'd gotten air into his lungs.  
  
It took the Wielder a minute to recover. "Sorry," she muttered while releasing her friend and wiping her tears, "maybe we both need some sleep." Embarrassed by her conniption, Sara wondered if maybe she was the one whose nerves were frayed by the evening's events.   
  
"Scary vision?" Gabriel asked, wondering what she'd seen that had upset her so badly.  
  
"The scribe," Sara whispered. "I saw them kill him."   
  
She couldn't bring herself to tell him that the man had looked exactly like him and she definitely did not want to tell him about the brutal and sadistic manner in which the Sufult had claimed the scribe's life.   
  
The scribe hadn't even tried to defend himself. He just kept struggling to get the Tome sealed. They must not have realized that he was sealing the their prize. When all signs of life had left the young scribe, the Sufult seized the Tome. But the panels had been slid into place, obscuring the lock.  
  
Sara stared hard at Gabriel, wondering if he knew something that he wasn't telling her. It seemed odd that at the mention of the sect he became so insistent on sealing the Tome. But Gabriel wasn't looking at her, he seemed deep in thought. The Wielder gingerly tilted his chin to read his expression.   
  
"Don't worry Sara, that was a long time ago. It's over," he soothed, but his features were schooled, his eyes unreadable.  
  
***  
  
Averting his eyes, Gabriel pulled Sara into a comforting embrace to obscure the fear that was threatening to show on his face. History was about to repeat itself and he was scared. He cursed Iron's wicked ploy.  
  
  
tbc  
*****************************************  
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews.   
  
Riyallyn; thanks for the recommendation. I couldn't figure out what OT was, so I couldn't post. I'm not too bright, I guess. 


	12. masterminds and misconceptions

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not.   
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. The Tome and Key are mine.   
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses*   
***  
Swearing  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
********************  
Locales  
********************  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 11  
**************************************  
********************  
Iron's mansion  
********************  
  
Kenneth Irons sat in his study, massaging the armrest of his favorite chair as he contemplated the new developments in his little game.   
  
Ian had mentioned a puzzle to release the Tome from it's seemingly impregnable casing. According to lore, the Key opened the Tome. There were no references to a puzzle. He wondered if the Sufult knew of this impediment. Ian didn't seem surprised by it.  
  
Iron's employee seemed to believe that the Sufult would retreat after repossessing what they had lost. Perhaps waiting for an efficacious opportunity to present itself, rather than careening recklessly into a doubtless all out war with Irons and his minions.   
  
The assassin believed in subtlety and subterfuge, the Sufult's history being a prime example of their advantages. Rather than openly assaulting the Holy Roman Catholic Church, the sect had altered manuscripts and removed objects of power by insinuating themselves within the church itself. Even their attempt at dealing with the Witchblade problem showed their tendency toward underhandedness.   
  
Yet the sect had acted aggressively in their attempt to retrieve the Tome. Kenneth believed Ian might have overestimated the wisdom of the Sufult.   
  
Perhaps in their anxiousness to resolve a scheme that had lay dormant for centuries, they had acted rashly. Or perhaps they were acting out of panic. Either way, Irons suspected they may stay on this path. Especially if the sect believed the Key had been found.   
  
Regardless, they had offended him by their reckless attempt to thwart his plans. He decided to give them a small reminder of why they should not interfere in his matters.   
  
He called for Andreas, one of his capable operators.  
  
When Andreas finally arrived, Irons was fondling the candy dish. The delectable toffees would never be the same. Kenneth would have acquired a cat to occupy his anxious hands, but after the 'Bond' movies they were so cliche.   
  
"I'm feeling benevolent," Kenneth Irons announced as Andreas waited for his assignment. Kenneth noticed the operator eyeing him dubiously.  
  
"Sir?" Andreas responded, hoping to prompt his employer into a more believable explanation for his summons.  
  
"I have been hoarding information that would be useful to others in their endeavors," Mr. Irons admitted, tilting his chin up and appearing to look thoughtful.   
  
"What do you wish me to do, Sir?" Andreas asked, a bit baffled.  
  
"In the library there is extensive information on the Sufult." Irons informed. "From the information I have, I would like you to prepare dossiers tailored to the needs of each of the three recipients I have chosen."   
  
Irons paused dramatically before revealing his first benefactor. "That impertinent FBI agent may find particular documents, along with maps of the Sufult catacombs, helpful in his investigation," he stated, imagining the delicious detective dragging his red headed companion through the dank tunnels.   
  
Satisfied with his first choice, Kenneth moved onto the second subject. "Perhaps Cardinal Torrenturo might like to take a closer look at a specific chalice. It may be a fraud," Irons suggested, pausing to scribble some notes on a piece of paper.  
  
His employer's idea of 'benevolence' was beginning to become clear to Andreas.   
  
"Likewise, I'm sure a certain Middle East faction would be interested to know that a document very sacred to them has been falsified. Perhaps they may wish to retrieve the original manuscript of their Deity," he continued, vivaciously indulging himself in his viciousness.  
  
Andreas wondered what nefarious crime the Sufult had committed to attract his employers ire.  
  
"I'm sure you are aware of the details on these...previously obtrusive entities. It should not be to difficult to arrange a parley." Irons held out the piece of paper to his henchman, caressing his pen before adding. "Ah, and Andreas, have the carrion division monitor their progress."   
  
With a shooing gesture from Irons, Andreas set off to accomplish his tasks. His reminder taken care of, Irons turned his attention to the situation at hand.  
  
The clean up crew had alerted Irons that they had Talismaniac monitored under Ian Nottingham's orders. He'd suggested that they also have another team keep an entrance clear by disposing of any spies or thugs at the rear entrance to the building. Kenneth decided this would give Ian some privacy if he returned with Gabriel and also piss off the Sufult. This was keeping them busy and becoming tiresome, as the Sufult seemed religiously determined to monitor each entrance.   
  
Kenneth decided Ian didn't need to be bothered with these trivialities. The assassin's assignment had been to keep the enemy at bay and retrieve the tome once Gabriel opened it. Now his main duty would be to protect the young man until he had accomplished his purpose. After that, the Sufult could do whatever they wanted with Gabriel.   
  
He hoped his assassin was maintaining a degree of discretion. He didn't want the young artifact dealer aware of his intentions. The Wielder would most likely confront him on the matter, but that would merely provide him with another opportunity to taunt her.   
  
With a smug smile perched on his lips he decided to retire for the evening.  
  
  
********************  
Sara's apartment  
********************  
  
Ian's sharp eyes scanned the perimeter, hoping for any distraction to release his frustration on. Usually, he enjoyed silently observing Sara. Her behavior of late, however, had caused him much confusion and dismay.  
  
Roy, who seemed to be trying to earn brownie points with him for some reason, had called just as he decided to peer through the cracks of Sara's bedroom window blinds. As Roy disclosed Iron's orders, the assassin saw Sara petting and then restraining Gabriel on the bed.  
  
*At least he's resisting her wiles* Ian thought, as Gabriel struggled to get away. He heard Sara say "Okay, okay" and hand him a backpack.   
  
Despite Roy's insistent blathering, he managed to make out that the boy had managed to convince Lady Sara to allow him his modesty, asking her to leave while he dressed. The assassin watched as the boy pulled out some clothes and the Tome. Ending the phone conversation, he scanned the area again. The assassin sensed nothing but sparse traffic and a derelict singing loudly to himself. Ian hoped it was to himself, he noted no one else in the area and he didn't like the idea of being serenaded by the man.  
  
He returned his attention to the room where the Wielder was clasping Gabriel fiercely and crying. "Just as I thought," muttered Ian Nottingham, "cuddlefest."   
  
The assassin felt Sara was seriously overreacting to the 'trauma' he'd supposedly caused Gabriel by simply standing there. SHE was the one who yanked the sheets off the boy.  
  
  
********************  
Sufult lair  
********************  
  
Brother Rason had arrived with the Tome. Consul Damak's top aide, Magistrate Banol, escorted him. The Consul was eager to discuss the situation in person with his aide but he needed to examine the Tome first. Perhaps brother Rason had not examined it thoroughly.   
  
As he turned it over and over in his hands, checking each surface and seamless juncture, an expression of disappointment deepened on his face. The Tome looked to be the same innocuous slab as when they had first acquired it. There was no indication that it had been altered.  
  
Consul Damak frowned. Being that it showed no signs of being opened at all, he briefly wondered if maybe it hadn't. There was a possibility that the young man's research was just coincidence. It was doubtful, but they would know for sure once they had the young entrepreneur.  
  
Another call interrupted his speculations. It was one of the scouts assigned to monitor the entrance of Kenneth Iron's estate. Iron's assassin had entered and left the estate.  
  
"Was our target, Gabriel Bowman, with him?" Consul Damak asked apprehensively.  
  
"No, Prime Consul," the scout answered.  
  
"How can you be sure?" Consul Damak argued. "The young man may have been in the trunk."  
  
"He was on a motorcycle, Prime Consul," the scout replied.  
  
A rush of relief flowed through Consul Damak. Even if the assassin had captured their prey, which now looked doubtful, he had not taken him to Iron's stronghold yet. The place was impenetrable.   
  
The Consul concluded that the assassin had either stored the young man elsewhere or the prey had eluded them both. He hoped for the latter.  
  
Consul Damak decided to spur on the hunt for their elusive quarry. He turned to one of his attendants.  
  
"Gather up all information that we have on Mr. Bowman. I want the Enforcers to visit every acquaintance that we are aware of, every place he frequents," Consul Damak demanded.  
  
While he doled out his instructions, Magistrate Banol approached him. The handsome and commanding man waited patiently for him to finish his orders before engaging him in debate over strategy and procedures.  
  
"What If the target has taken it to the Wielder?" Magistrate Banol began.  
  
Consul Damak was surprised by the Magistrate's abrupt question. "I had suspected that a Wielder would be in the picture. However, as much as we have been able to monitor the young man, he doesn't seem to have had dealings with anyone fitting the description of the Wielder. There was a female who had practically lived at Gabriel's apartment but she was definitely not the Wielder," the Consul replied.   
  
After receiving a doubtful stare from Magistrate Banol, the Consul continued, "She could have slipped by, of course, given the assassin's tendencies to eliminate random spies and scouts. Along with the wide berth we've given Irons and Ian Nottingham, it is possible."   
  
Magistrate Banol was beginning to believe the Prime Consul had become a little too complacent in his position. He understood maintaining the secrecy and safety of the sect but he did not like the way Consul Damak cowed to Mr. Irons. "Well, perhaps we should study the 'randomness' of the spies the assassin has apparently deemed a threat. A professional assassin such as he, does not kill randomly."  
  
"And if it turns out the assassin is concealing the Wielder from us?" the Prime Consul queried, worried of the reply from the truculent Magistrate.  
  
"Then the stakes are raised," Magistrate Banol replied coolly.   
  
  
********************  
Sara's apartment  
********************  
  
Feeling Gabriel's embrace weaken, Sara pulled him into bed and tucked him in for the third time that evening. She'd tried to read his expression once more, but his eyes were half closed and he simply looked exhausted. He wearily curled upon the mattress and before she'd even gotten the covers over him, he was asleep.   
  
She doubted that she would find reprieve so easily. That closed expression Gabriel wore in reaction to her outburst disturbed her. He'd always been candid and accepting of all her quirks. Not to mention the fact that Gabriel was by nature, a very open and honest person.   
  
She recalled the time Jake had asked him an audaciously personal question. Gabriel had raised an eyebrow at the query, but answered him amicably nonetheless. And for a guy who had defied an assassin's torture threats to give her information on the Blade, she'd doubted his sudden reticence was due to self-preservation either. Something odd was up with him. She just didn't know what.   
  
The whole evening had been out of control. And now some idiot was outside her window, singing. The obviously inebriated man belting out Back in Black reminded her of Nottingham for some strange reason. She decided to see what the assassin was up to.   
  
When she stepped onto the fire escape she saw Nottingham scowling down at the street. If the derelict's singing was for Nottingham's benefit he was apparently undaunted by the assassin's furious expression.  
  
"Sara," he clipped without looking at her, the angry scowl still in place and aimed at the street below.  
  
"Um, how's it going?" she asked lamely. She thought she detected a bit of coldness in his greeting. Nottingham shifted his glare to her briefly before returning it to the oblivious crooner.  
  
The Wielder wasn't used to being on the receiving end of Ian's glare, if even briefly. Sara was taken aback. First Gabriel shuts her out and now Nottingham's mad at her?  
  
"Just wonderful," he answered caustically. "I am thoroughly enjoying the riveting song stylings of monsieur street bard." The man's awful yowling was not helping Ian's already strained nerves. "I was thinking of requesting 'Mrs. Robinson' as his next ballad, if you'd care to stay."   
  
Ian turned slowly towards Sara. He pierced her with a smoldering gaze before adding, "Or are you just taking a breather from your little cosset."  
  
"What the- Whoa- Hey!" Sara sputtered angrily, " What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
Ian answered by simply turning back to the lone caroler and casually casting a stone into the street.  
  
"BAAAAAAAACK IN BLAAAA-Ow!" was heard from below. Followed by, "Cranky Bitch."  
  
Sara thought the drunken man's complaint was aimed at the assassin, since he threw the stone, until she realized Nottingham was hidden in shadow and she was clearly visible.   
  
"Yeah, well... You were askin' for it!" she retorted. "Go sleep it off!" she added, momentarily venting her anger and frustration on the rowdy singer.  
  
tbc  
**************************************  
  
This installment required a daytimer with a linear graph, a pie chart, one of those giant maps with blinking lights, a detailed streetmap of NY city, research on the velocity of western sparrows, push pins, a GPS unit and some action figures.  
  
I apologize profusely to Roguegal17 for putting her through the misery of the first and second draft.   
  
A big 'THANK YOU' to the people who took the time to review this story. Your questions and comments have extended this tale far past my initial goal of ending it at the 6th chapter. I apologize to those who wish I'd wrapped it sooner.   
  
Riyallyn - Yup, he's got his reasons, but as no one in this tale knows all of the circumstances, well, we'll just see... Wish him luck for me.  
  
Spin - Wow, it's Spin! I know I've gushed over your stories before I got a proper Identity by registering at ff. Oh, again, I can't say what he does and doesn't know. I could but that would make it boring, no? Glad you noticed that. I have a habit of dropping little clues rather than explaining things outright. I've tried to become a bit more straightforward and obvious. I realize people are reading a lot of stories and would not remember a single seemingly inconsequential line from 3 chapters back.   
  
dragongrrl - I am amazed that you like the story. I am jealous of your Enteman's truck. So frustrated about the antidote.   
  
You can blame Roguegal for revealing Gabriel's previous slaying. She had a complaint about issues revolving around the modern day 'scribe'. I hadn't said the scribe was Gabe, (even though that was what my mind conjured) and hadn't planned to describe the scribe's appearance at all. But obviously I'm obvious.  
  
ann - Thank you for liking the extended version. I do have some schematics to work out now, tho.   
  
I picture this from late season one or early two (Irons is still alive) so his hair is still relatively short and given to waywardness if he slept with it damp. I was remembering Agent Cooper's (fom twin peaks) bed head, hysterical!  
  
prequenop - Hee! Oh, it's all about the hair, hehe. Thank you for the wonderful complement, btw.  
  
Divamercury - You nailed it, that and this chapter are a set up for well, hm, something that I may have to purchase more action figures for.  
  
p.s.  
I've entered the busy season for my workload. I suddenly have a MASSIVE amount of projects, so the next chapter will either be very short or very far away. Sorry. 


	13. a quiet evening at Sara's

***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. The Sufult, Tome, Key, towel and a toothbrush are mine.   
  
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses*   
***  
Swearing  
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 12  
*****************************************  
  
After bitching out the hapless drunk, Sara turned back to Ian. He was, for some reason, suppressing a smirk. Not sure if he was amused at her being blamed for his stone tossing, losing her temper or still gloating over his 'Mrs. Robinson' jab, she turned her anger back on him.   
  
She was tired of all his little insinuations that she was behaving lasciviously towards Gabriel, especially since Ian's own intentions seemed questionable. "Y'know, Nottingham, I'm not sure which definition of cosset you were going for but I sure as hell am NOT a 'Mrs. Robinson'! Even if I was interested in Gabriel that way, he's not that much younger than I am. And I haven't been hitting on him, so drop the taunts."  
  
Ian eyed Sara in disbelief. "Oh, how could I have come to such a conclusion when your antics this evening have been so chaste." He sneered.   
  
"My antics! God Nottingham, I've only been trying to take care of him and give him some rest despite your unpredictable high jinks," she barked irritably before muttering; "That thing in the bathroom was an innocent mistake."   
  
"Innocent," Nottingham snorted derisively. He wanted to point out that her recent endeavors weren't exactly rest inducing, but somehow thought she wouldn't like the idea of him peeking in her bedroom window. "You have very unusual methods of 'taking care' of the injured. I noticed you didn't give the boy anything to eat. Starvation is not the usual remedy for blood loss and shock."  
  
Sara, about to retort fiercely, paled. God, what was she thinking? It was embarrassing that Nottingham was more aware of Gabriel's needs than her. "I... I'll give him something when he wakes up," she muttered guiltily. All the chaos of the evening had not really allowed her a clear head. First Nottingham's attack on Gabriel, then this new threat of the sect, Gabe nearly falling off her bike then almost drowning, Nottingham breaking in and taunting her...  
  
The Wielder's indignation returned as if it had never left. "Wait a minute, You're the one who caused this in the first place! I can't believe you Nottingham! All the shit you pull and then you have the nerve to criticize me for inadequate remedy of YOUR damage?"   
  
"I'm sure he will be delighted with your stale pizza." Ian commented, not even bothering to address her accusation. In his opinion, it was mostly Gabriel's own fault for his injuries. The assassin would have left him unharmed if he hadn't been so difficult. "I doubt you have even seen the interior of a food store," he muttered for no other reason than to throw her off the subject. It worked like a charm.   
  
"I HAVE bought groceries before, Nottingham, not everyone has the time to wander around grocery stores and spend hours preparing food." Even as she spoke she realized he'd baited her into a ridiculous argument that had nothing to do with anything. "You know what, Nottingham? If your so concerned about what I feed him, why don't you go to the market and get him something yourself?" Ian eyed her as if she'd just shoved poop in his face.  
  
"I cannot leave my post until Mr. Irons deems fit. I suggest you open your self to the possibility of grocery shopping, It might do you some good to see what an apple looks like." Ian retorted, wondering how to get out of the pointless argument he'd started. He wished the Sufult would show up to distract either he or Sara. She'd latched onto the silly diversion like a Rottweiler and still hadn't admitted to her lustful endeavors towards the annoying boy.  
  
"You're just trying to get alone with Gabriel, aren't you? What was the deal with him being on your lap like that anyway?" Sara demanded.   
  
"I was TRYING to break his legs!" Ian exclaimed irritably, running out of patience.   
  
Sara's expression went from irritated to shocked and settled on furious. The assassin had never seen her actually shake with anger before. He noticed her clenched fists and wondered if he shouldn't have just gone along with Sara's kinky pervert theory.  
  
  
  
********************  
  
The dilapidated Pinto wound it's way through the city streets. It's driver and his cohort scanned their surroundings as the vehicle cruised along.  
  
"Do you think the Prime Consul is angry with us?" Brother Nolan asked. He was a bit apprehensive about their current assignment. He'd heard the sect had lost a decent share of its members this evening and the heretics had lost none.   
  
"Why would he be angry with us?" queried Brother Wickel. Unbeknownst to his passenger, the assignment had been given by the Consul's Aide, Magistrate Banol.  
  
"Well, our orders are to scout the very area that our brothers were slain for scouting. Judging by what's been happening, I'd say we would be next," Brother Nolan explained.  
  
"It is a privilege to die for the Sufult," Brother Wickel retorted fervently.  
  
Brother Nolan did not comment. He was aware that as a disciple of the Sufult, zealous devotion was expected. But sometimes he wished he had been raised in a religion that did not regularly demand risking one's life. Perhaps Protestant, they seemed to have it fairly easy. The downside being that Protestants were supposed to respect society in general, rather than undermine it. They were also usually unarmed; he shuddered at the thought. Fingering one of his daggers to soothe himself, he scanned the area. He wouldn't describe it as desolate but it was fairly quiet, save a few cabs driving by and an inebriated man singing loudly.  
  
  
  
tbc 


	14. Partai's payback

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
000~I've actually revised the first part of the last part of the previous chapter. I hope it clarifies as to what is happening within the sect. I'm not sure if it's essential to understanding this chapter, but it may be, I have a habit of leaving things out or concealed.~000  
  
  
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
  
********************  
Locales  
********************  
  
*** bracket a specific pov  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 13  
  
**************************************  
********************  
Sara's apartment  
********************  
Ian Nottingham had heard slight rustling coming from Sara's bedroom. He was about to use the fact that Sara had woken the young artifact dealer as a diversion when he heard the window being opened. Both of them turned as Gabriel poked his head outside.  
  
His sleepy countenance made them both feel a bit guilty. "Um, Guys? While I appreciate your... protection," he offered, gesturing apostrophe marks with his fingers on the protection part of the statement. Ian shot Sara a snide look before Gabriel continued. "I was wondering if you could keep the bickering down. You sound like an old married couple," he added, before yawning widely and retreating back into the room.  
  
Sara gaped at Gabriel's description and was about to retort indignantly when Nottingham suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into the darkness. She was confused until she saw the car driving by below.  
  
  
*************************  
  
When Brother Wickel turned their vehicle onto another street, Brother Nolan beheld the boisterous crooner. His ballad was ceased abruptly by something assailing him from above. Brother Nolan spotted the singer's attacker on the fire escape.   
  
As their vehicle approached, the two brothers could hear the assailant arguing with someone in the shadows. It was then that Brother Nolan's sharp eyes espied the bracelet on her wrist. He subtly nudged Brother Wickel. Brother Wickel surreptitiously flicked his gaze to the fire escape just as Gabriel Bowman's face appeared at a nearby window.  
  
Driving a few blocks past the scene, Brother Wickel turned into an alley and stopped the car at the opposite entrance. He pulled out his cell phone and paused before choosing a speed dial button. "Magistrate Banol," he addressed before continuing. "We've located the target."  
  
Brother Nolan was a bit perplexed. "Shouldn't you be alerting the Prime Consul?"  
  
Brother Wickel shot him a silencing glare before continuing his conversation. "Both the assassin and the Wielder are guarding him," he reported. There was a long pause as he listened to his instructions.  
  
Brother Nolan wondered if there hadn't been a change in plans or a coup of sorts. This was not the usual procedure. Usually they would contact the Prime Consul or one of his attendants on important matters. The Prime consul would definitely be interested in them spotting the unmistakable woman wearing the blade. He didn't get a chance to ask about his Brother's decision, as Brother Wickel ended the call and immediately gave him instructions.  
  
"Take the surveillance equipment and find a discreet place from which to monitor the apartment that Gabriel Bowman is in. I want constant and detailed reports sent to Magistrate Banol's attendant, Brother Pedious," Brother Wickel commanded.  
  
Brother Nolan paled at the idea of reporting to Brother Pedious. Magistrate Banol was intimidating but his assistant was utterly vile. Nolan did not like the sinister way Brother Pedious' lurid gaze scrutinized him and the other Brothers. Nor did he appreciate his eerie, sibilant voice. He loathed the idea of any contact with the man.   
  
Not giving Brother Nolan a chance to argue, Brother Wickel handed him a bag and ordered him not to be seen. Clandestine maneuvers were one of Brother Nolan's strong points, being one of the reasons why he was chosen for this mission. Brother Wickel watched the agent slip into the shadows before driving back to headquarters. No doubt the assassin was now alert and he didn't want to arouse his suspicions by staying in the area.  
  
*************************  
  
Ian watched as the car disappeared from view, furious with himself for allowing his emotions to distract him from his duty. There was no way to tell if the two men inside the Pinto were Sufult or just harmless civilians, taunting other drivers with the vehicle's explosive rear. Regardless, It was time to get the Wielder inside.  
  
Scanning the area once more, the assassin urged Sara back into her apartment. "We must get you out of sight, Sara."  
  
Sara complied but thought Nottingham was overreacting. "I highly doubt the Sufult would send spies driving around in a Pinto," Sara complained. "They supposedly blow up if you even tap the bumper. Only crazies and people with a death wish would drive those things."  
  
Nottingham raised an eyebrow at Sara. "And you think they are neither?" he queried. "The Sufult are clever and fanatical, Sara, it would not surprise me if they drove such a vehicle to throw me off, to appear harmless," Ian stated. "You've driven unmarked cars before, it is much the same."  
  
Sara eyed him worriedly, thinking he was ridiculously paranoid. She'd drove unmarked cars aplenty when undercover, but would seriously blanch at a Pinto. "Um, okay, Nottingham. You keep an eye out for suspicious Pinto's, I'm going to see if I can get Gabriel to eat something," Sara stated wryly before picking up the phone.  
  
The assassin was at her side in a second, pressing the disconnect button. "What are you doing?" he demanded.  
  
"I'm calling for delivery," Sara replied, a bit thrown by the alarm in Nottingham's tone.  
  
The assassin was exasperated. "This is not the time to invite strangers into your home, Sara Pezzini. Nor is it a good idea to accept food that could be drugged or poisoned."  
  
"I think you are being a bit paranoid, Nottingham," Sara stated, annoyed by the assassin's seemingly overcautious capers.   
  
"And I think you know very little about the Sufult," Ian rejoined.   
  
Sighing in resignation, Sara headed for the kitchen.   
  
After staring into her fridge for several minutes, Sara grudgingly admitted Nottingham was right about her food supplies. *How did Nottingham guess that she had pizza in the fridge, let alone that it was stale?* The pizza 'had' gone stale and considering condiments weren't exactly power foods, she was at a loss. Checking her cupboards, she found she had cereal but no milk. She had a few things that would go well on toast, but no bread. Finding a box of crackers and a half-eaten candy bar, she decided to make do with what she had. She poured some dry cereal into a bowl and began preparing crackers with whatever edible spreads she could find.  
  
While Sara was busying herself in the kitchen, the assassin pushed a button on the small box he had hidden in Sara's apartment. He had placed it there shortly after Gabriel had acquired the Tome, as a precaution. Once the device was activated, he resumed scanning the area.   
  
On her way to the bedroom, Sara Noticed Ian mockingly admiring her makeshift meal. Noticing he was practically shaking with suppressed mirth, she shot him a defensive glance. It wasn't her fault. It's not like she was expecting company tonight.  
  
She walked over to the bed and tried to wake her injured friend. "Gabriel, c'mon sweetie, wake up," Sara urged, shaking the sleeping man slightly. After a few more pleads and prods, he came to. Sara held the plate out to him. "Gabriel, I need you to eat something," she stated.  
  
Gabriel eyed the bizarre assortment of snacks wearily before raising his bemused gaze to Sara. "I, um... I'm sorry about the married couple comment," he apologized. Sara had woken him to shove a plate of food in his face. It looked like it was prepared for a five-year-old. He'd guessed it was some sort of vengeful taunt in response to his comment. It seemed odd but it was the only explanation he could think of to account for her unorthodox intrusion on his rest.   
  
Thinking Gabriel was delirious; Sara became alarmed and insisted he must eat something.  
  
He eyed the bizarre selection, feeling the crackers with peanut butter appeared the safest choice, he selected one, hoping this would appease her. Sara smiled encouragingly and he cautiously placed it in his mouth...  
  
After much insistence and ignoring his delusional apologies, Sara had managed to get him to eat three crackers before he drifted off, muttering something about eccentric punishment. While Sara admitted it was no feast, she hardly would describe the food as punishment.   
  
After returning the remainder of the food to the kitchen, studiously avoiding the smirking assassin, she retreated to her bedroom. Gabriel seemed to be practicing passive aggressive maneuvers, as he had sprawled across the middle of the mattress. She tiredly climbed in beside him and threw an arm around his shoulders to anchor herself on the narrow bed, not noticing the swirl of the gem on her wrist.  
  
In the other room, Ian stood inside a darkened window. As he scanned the area, something caught his eye. He pulled a small device from one of his inner pockets and turned it on.  
  
  
*************************  
  
Keeping to the shadows, Brother Nolan had quickly navigated back alleys to arrive at his perch in a building adjacent the Wielder's flat. He began setting up his equipment in the dark and empty room. Adjusting his night vision scope, he noticed the assassin and the girl were no longer on the fire escape. He scanned the windows, spotting a figure lying on a bed and two standing in another room.   
  
Satisfied that they'd not slipped away, Brother Nolan set up the listening device. He aimed the laser at the apartment but got only white noise. *Damn, the assassin must have set up a sound screen.* He was annoyed by Nottingham's thoroughness.   
  
If the man hadn't been bickering with the Wielder, they probably would never have spotted him. As it was, Brother Nolan had only caught a glimpse of a gloved hand whisking the woman into the shadows.  
  
Forced to rely on visual only for his monitoring, he peered through the scope. Just as the woman entered the bedroom his communications device hummed. Nolan opened the line with dismay.  
  
"I have been waiting for your contact, Brother Nolan," murmured Brother Pedious. "I do not like waiting," he seethed, contempt saturating every sylable.  
  
"I apologize, Brother Pedious, there is nothing significant to report. All three are still in the apartment," replied Brother Nolan.  
  
Brother Pedious was incensed by Brother Nolan's assumptive impudence. "You were ordered to give me constant and detailed information, Nolan. 'I' will decide what is 'significant'," he admonished. "Are they aware of your presence?"   
  
Repulsed at the personal use of his name by the man, Brother Nolan took a moment to reply; "I don't think so. I am unable to monitor their conversations, but the Wielder and Gabriel Bowman are in bed." Brother Pedious made a strange noise at this information, but Brother Nolan continued; "the assassin appears to be standing guard."  
  
When he glanced back at Nottingham, he blanched. The assassin seemed to be staring directly at him. *The man could not actually see him, could he?* Unnerved, Brother Nolan stepped back.   
  
"Tell me about the two in bed," Brother Pedious purred.   
  
****************  
  
Pocketing his listening device, Nottingham strode over to the thermostat. It would not do good to stay and wait for the Sufult to ensnare them. And judging by the conversation he'd heard, Both Lady Sara and the boy must have failed to lower the blinds in the bedroom.  
  
Returning to his post, the assassin resumed his surveillance of the spy and waited.   
  
  
  
********************  
Sufult lair  
********************  
  
Consul Damak noticed Magistrate Banol's abrupt disappearance into an adjoining room. He decided to follow him. Entering the room, he heard the magistrate quickly rattling off orders into his phone. "What is happening?" The Prime Consul asked. He was not pleased that his aide seemed to be excluding him. "Have they found the artifact dealer?"  
  
Magistrate Banol attempted to appear calm in front of the agitated Consul. "Mr. Bowman has been located. I have an operator monitoring the location until other agents can insinuate themselves into the area without alarming Mr. Irons." He said the last two words carefully, trying to hide his disdain for the man who supposedly held the sect in check.   
  
He neglected to mention the Wielder's presence. He did not want the Prime Consul to order the sect to back off, based on decisions made centuries ago.  
  
"That is good to hear, 'Magistrate', " Consul Damak responded warily. I expect you to keep me informed. With that, he exited the room like a peeved Prima Donna. He was beginning to distrust Magistrate Banol.  
  
  
  
********************  
Sara's apartment  
********************  
  
The assassin listened to the ludicrous conversation transpiring between the spy and his overseer. He was grateful for Lady Sara's inevitable interruption, signaling the time to evacuate. "God, Nottingham, It's boiling in here, what did you turn the heat on for?" Sara bitched plaintively.  
  
"A screen, Sara," Ian replied, thinking his Lady should understand.  
  
"A what?" the Wielder queried. It appeared Nottingham was back to his cryptic self. Sara crossed her arms and waited for the metaphor on jungles or whatever his inscrutable mind had concocted.  
  
"They are monitoring this apartment using an infrared device. They can see us because of our body heat. I am simply clouding their vision so we can make our escape." The assassin explained, thinking his actions should be obvious.  
  
Before she had a chance to react to this information, her phone rang. It was Jake. "Hey Pez, glad you're awake. We gotta roll, body on the West Side. I'm on my way to get you."  
  
Sara was about to spout a rebuttal when Nottingham placed himself in front of her, demanding her attention. "Go, I will take care of Gabriel," Ian ordered.   
  
On account of their recent actions, Nottingham knew the Sufult would not desist in their pursuit of the young man. He wanted to protect his Lady Sara. If the boy were separated from the Wielder, they would most likely concentrate on the seemingly easier route of pursuing Gabriel. The further from Gabriel, the safer she would be.   
  
"Just a sec, Jake." Sara placed a hand over the phone.   
  
"We have no time Sara. The spy will realize my ruse and others will be sent to prevent us from escaping. We must leave now!" the assassin insisted. "Go with Jake and I will take Gabriel to a safe place. I'll contact you once we are there."  
  
Sara hesitated, not knowing what to do. The imploring gaze of the determined assassin finally pushed her to a decision. "Okay, Jake. I'll be down in a few," she spoke into the phone before snapping it shut. Grabbing her jacket, she rushed into the bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans before waking Gabriel.   
  
Gabriel was particularly indignant about being roused again, but she forced him to his feet and demanded that he dress for travel. "What's going on now?" he muttered as Sara handed him his pack.  
  
"They found us," she answered.  
  
Gabriel's eyes widened. He quickly pulled the Tome from his pack and shoved it at the Wielder. "Take this," he ordered with an expression that brooked no argument.  
  
Sara reluctantly took the Tome and stashed it inside her jacket while Gabriel quickly dressed. She worried about separating Gabriel from it for some reason. Nottingham's reference to a fraud popped into her head and now Sara wished she had asked him to explain.  
  
  
******************  
It was becoming near impossible to make out shapes through the scope in the overly bright apartment. Brother Nolan kept peering over the instrument but the lights in the apartment were still out. *What is going on?* he wondered, as he checked the settings once again. He was beginning to think the assassin was up to something, he just wasn't sure how the man could have tampered with his equipment.  
  
******************  
  
"Nottingham is going to take you someplace safe," Sara began explaining nervously. She was still apprehensive about the plan and hoped she was making the right decision. She glanced at her bracelet, but it seemed inert for the moment.   
  
"What about you?" Gabriel asked.   
  
There was panic in his eyes. Sara couldn't tell if it was from fear for her safety or the Idea of being taken away by Nottingham. "Jake is coming to pick me up for a case," she replied. She felt that she was abandoning her friend at the worst possible time and again doubted her decision.   
  
Although taking Gabriel with her might also be a bad idea also. What if the body was a setup and she was walking into a trap? *God, I'm getting as paranoid as Nottingham,* she thought.  
  
Gabriel simply nodded. His eyes were downcast as he accepted her decision. Grabbing his pack, he left the room, the Wielder trailing after him.  
  
Nottingham was waiting at the door, looking impatient. Sara enveloped Gabriel in an embrace before handing him over to the assassin. Gabriel returned the endearment, clutching her tightly.  
  
After a moment, Gabriel's hands drifted lower around her waist and she wondered if her friend was actually making a pass at her. This was not the best for time for him to get fresh. He was certainly inciting a death wish by doing it in front of Nottingham.   
  
Surprisingly, the temperamental assassin didn't seem upset. Gabriel pulled away and gave her a peck on the forehead. Sara wondered about his behavior but looking into his eyes, she saw only concern.  
  
There was a sharp rap on the door and Jake yelled, "Pez! Come on, let's roll!"  
  
Sara looked back toward the two men. Nottingham had a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. Her friend's expression had become reminiscent of his reaction to her outburst earlier. "If anything happens to him, Nottingham..." she threatened the assassin.  
  
"It won't" Ian assured, opening the door. Jake was standing in the doorway, looking baffled at the rush of heat that hit him, and the two dark haired men inside.  
  
Sara gave Gabriel a peck on the cheek before following a confused Jake down to the waiting car.  
  
Nottingham waited until Sara disappeared around the corner before grasping Gabriel's arm and whisking him to another exit.  
  
  
********************  
Sufult lair  
********************  
  
As soon as it was reported that not only the artifact dealer but also the Wielder had been located, Magistrate Banol had instructed Brother Wickel to have an agent gather all information regarding the woman in the apartment; her name; where she works and anyone she is connected to.  
  
When the agent sent him the information, Magistrate Banol was pleased. A homicide detective, how perfect.  
  
  
********************  
Sara's apartment  
********************  
  
The assassin continued his wary surveillance as he ushered Gabriel down a fire escape. Sensing no signs of being watched, he went to retrieve his motorcycle from it's hiding place. He tried to keep an eye on Gabriel also as he pulled the bike out of the narrow alcove. He'd left the young man at the entrance and although Gabriel had been wisely silent, he seemed about to rabbit at any second. Ian suspected he was only cooperating to appease Lady Sara.   
  
  
***  
Gabriel had been eyeing Nottingham suspiciously. He wondered where this 'safe place' was and why Sara trusted the assassin. Of course her decision may have been rushed by the sudden events. She seemed a bit panicky and nervous when she woke him.   
  
Now that he no longer had access to either the Tome or the Key, his existence didn't appear to be a threat to Sara or the blade. It seemed odd that he was still being guarded. Ian had said his protection was on orders from Irons.   
  
The realization hit him just as the assassin emerged from the narrow alcove *Oh shit! He's taking me to Irons!* Gabriel panicked and bolted but the assassin seemed to be expecting it. Before he could get halfway down the alley, a gloved hand latched onto his jacket, sending his feet flying out in front of him.  
***  
  
  
Yanking Gabriel backwards, Nottingham clutched the boy to his chest and secured a hand firmly yet not painfully around Gabriel's throat. "Behave!" he hissed, as if reprimanding a naughty child.  
  
"Just let me go," Gabriel protested. "I'm no use to you or Irons. I don't have the Tome or the Key."  
  
The assassin contemplated the boy's statement. "So you think I am taking you to Irons?" Ian queried. Getting no reply from the young man, he took his silence as a yes. "You would be well protected at the estate," Nottingham mused.  
  
"From who," Gabriel retorted. He had never met Irons but from what he knew about the man, he wanted to keep it that way.   
  
Iron's 'bait' suggestion rang in the assassin's mind. Irons would definitely use Gabriel as a bartering chip if he were aware of Ian's deception. Even if Irons didn't discover his subterfuge, he may traumatize the boy, hence drawing ire from Lady Sara. He decided to stick with the original location. "I am not taking you to Irons. I have a secluded location in mind. One I alone am aware of," the assassin stated. He hoped this would placate the boy enough to keep him from bolting again. Gabriel seemed to be mulling the option.  
  
Being in a secluded area known only to the assassin didn't sound much better than being brought to Irons but Gabriel was starting to get the sinking feeling that the Sufult were closing in on them. "Okay," he breathed.  
  
Nottingham released Gabriel's throat but kept a firm grip on the young man's jacket. He hauled Gabriel down the alley to his bike, wondering if the young man was serious about his agreement or just looking for another chance to escape. He glanced down at Gabriel's face. His eyes were darting about. That was not a good sign.   
  
"Get on the bike," Ian ordered, not letting go of the jacket.  
  
Gabriel scanned the area once more before replying. "No."  
  
Ian glared at Gabriel ."Arguing is not a luxury you have right now. Do as I say," he insisted, losing patience with the younger man.  
  
Gabriel started to struggle and repeated, "No." He hoped the assassin would find him too troublesome and just let him loose to fend for himself.  
  
"We have no time for this!" Nottingham growled. The assassin grabbed Gabriel about the waist. In one fluid motion he'd spun the smaller man round while mounting the motorcycle and plopped him on the bike in front of him. The boy's irritatingly stubborn behavior made him wish he had not parted with the leash. It would have certainly come in handy at the moment.   
  
Recalling Gabriel's earlier escapades, the assassin eyed the young man's legs suspiciously. Not having time to take precautions with the boy's favorite choice of weapon, he started the bike and tore off into the night. Barely avoiding an oncoming car, Ian sped up despite his passenger's precarious position. The Sufult were closing the net.   
  
  
*****************************************tbc  
  
LaFemmeLurker - Ah, I am sorry, but the drunk was only a tool. A way to get people into certain positions and do things they would later regret. (Hmm, much like many Frat parties I've been to.) Because he accomplished my goals so beautifully, I think I will give him a name and title. I tip my hat to Frank Partai, Unwitting accomplice.  
  
ann- Not intimidating? Hmmm, we'll see about that.   
  
I apologize to everyone who hoped the Sufult would realize they'd been duped by the fake Tome right away. I figured they'd been duping people for centuries and it was about time that they got back a little of their own. And why not by 'The reigning King of Badass', himself?  
  
Speaking of 'Reigning King of Badass' I once again thank Roguegal17 for patiently putting up with my shennanigans. I send her muses a cake. Yes, let them have cake! : )  
  
Massive thanks to everyone who reviewed. You've encouraged me to keep going with this tricky yarn. I'm off to my control room with charts and action figures until work interrupts.  
  
The box that Nottingham activated was a white noise machine, much like those used in courtrooms to prevent the jury and others from listening in on side bar conversations. I think they are quite common now, although they vary in type and purpose. 


	15. trust

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
  
********************denotes change in scenery  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 14  
  
*****************************************  
  
Grappling for something secure to hold onto, Gabriel was more than a little upset. One minute he had been close to disentangling himself from his jacket, the next he's on a motorcycle, clutched in front of the deadly assassin and being blinded by headlights. It wasn't until he regained his sight that he'd realized that they'd narrowly avoided death.   
  
The assassin was barreling down streets and skidding round corners at ridiculous speeds. Hearing tires squeal behind them, he surmised that they were being pursued. He was too caught up in fearing for his life to suss out anything beyond the fact that it was in Nottingham's hands until this crazy chase ended (one way or the other). After dodging a van by careening down a walkway too narrow for cars, Gabriel hoped that moment would arrive soon. He was tired of having his heart jump out of his chest.   
  
As Nottingham maneuvered the bike onto the interstate, Gabriel was able to calm down and began to contemplate where they were going. 'Isolated area' was pretty vague. Before he could judge their destination by freeway markers, his energy wore out. His eyes drifted shut as he concentrated on maintaining his grip on the assassin's coat.  
  
********************  
  
Jake couldn't take it anymore, as soon as they got in the car he blurted the question that was driving him mad; "Okay Pez, what's with the steamy apartment and the two guys?"  
  
Sara, still worrying over her decision, was taken off guard by the outrageous description of the situation. "What are you talking about?" she balked.  
  
"Come ON, Detective, you were there!" Jake retorted. "Don't even TRY to deny it! The door opens, I get hit with a blast of heat and there were definitely two guys standing right there. Now, cop."   
  
Sara rubbed her forehead, trying to think of a reasonable explanation. After a moment she gave up. "It was a screen," she replied. Offering no other explanation, she decided to just let Jake chew on that.  
  
"A screen," the rookie muttered thoughtfully.  
  
As Jake drove towards the crime scene, Sara noticed they were nearing Gabriel's neighborhood. "What's the location on the body?" Sara asked.  
  
"An alley between 66 and 68 Mercer street," Jake replied.  
  
The bracelet suddenly warmed on her wrist. Flashes of a figure entering an alley, Gabriel pinned against the wall. A gun firing, someone falling, a man lying prone, flames.  
  
"Pez? Sara?" Jake prodded, bringing her out of the vision. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, nothing, I just..." Sara trailed off, hoping he would drop it. He didn't.  
  
"Y'know, Sara, sometimes I worry about you," Jake said, giving Sara what he hoped was a concerned gaze. "You act strangely sometimes...zone out...have strange men at your apartment... You're not on drugs are you?"  
  
"No!" Sara barked. She couldn't believe she had to deal with this crap when people's lives were at stake. "Listen, Jake, although I live for my job, my job isn't my life. It's more than this," she said, gesturing broadly. "I don't have a choice, Jake. Other concerns sometimes outweigh my job. That's life," She finished, feeling she'd completely understated the pressure she felt she was under.  
  
Jake turned his attention back to the road, trying to figure out what Sara had just said.   
  
When they arrived on the site of the homicide, Sara noticed immediately that something was wrong. She, Jake and the body were the only ones present. Where were the other cops? The coroner?   
  
Jake had already gotten out of the car, surprised to be the first one's on the scene. "Wait, Jake!" she yelled. Her bracelet swirled hotly as she followed him. "It could be a trap," Sara insisted, looking around warily. Jake stared back at her as if she were cracked. He was starting to feel like he'd been dropped into a David Lynch film.   
  
"Pez, the guy is dead, I don't thin-  
  
At that moment Danny appeared in front of the alley. His gesture to flee was clear. She grabbed Jake by the wrist and ran.  
  
The deafening roar and heat at her heals identified the threat. Knocked several feet and rolling several more by the force of the blast, Sara's suspicion's had been confirmed. Yup, that was a trap. So much for paranoia.   
  
Sara lay stunned a moment before struggling to her feet. As she started to gather her senses, the gravity of the situation hit her. If Danny hadn't warned her, both she and Jake could be dead. Nottingham had sent her straight into the trap.   
  
She was stunned by the realization of Ian's treachery.   
  
In a wave of horror, Ian's words echoed in her head - "Go, I will take care of Gabriel." Oh god, she'd trusted him, she handed Gabriel right over to him without question. The assassin had tied up her friend, cut his throat, threatened to break his legs and Sara had basically handed Gabriel back to his tormentor. "Oh god, oh no... What have I done?" Sara mourned.   
  
Her betrayal making her feel nauseous, she looked back toward the alley, wishing it weren't true. Danny appeared in front of the wreckage with a wry smile. "Hm, my job isn't my life-good one, I like that."  
  
"Oh Danny..." Sara trailed off, incapable of finding words.   
  
"Having trust issues again?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow. He swiveled back towards the decimated alley. "I can't say that I blame you, from the appearance of things."  
  
Sara felt tears stinging at the back of her lids. This didn't look good, not good at all. "Nottingham, did...did he..." she stammered, searching for the right words.  
  
"Know?" Danny shook his head. "No one knows everything, Sara," he added before disappearing.  
  
  
********************  
  
ann- You had a Pinto? Sweet! I knew a very cool guy who drove one and his car somehow weaseled it's way into the story. My first choice of car was a Nova, I think, but I couldn't remember the name of it at the time, so the Pinto got the part. And here I thought it was Brother Nolan that made them seem wussy, as he doesn't seem very enthused. Some characters seem to come with their own personalities, though, so I just went with it.  
  
LaFemmeLurker- Yeah, they do look like they could be related, I had someone make a comment to that effect, but it got edited out.   
  
Roguegal17- Hee! I just loved your comment's on the story, "Me too, Buddy. Me too," Sara managing a soapbox in a car and many other's I can't mention because I've decided to stop posting ridiculously long chapters.   
  
As always I love your insight into the characters, Jake IS asking for it with his 'Dante' trip. I tried to soften it but the muses were being belligerent. They may have something in mind. The conclusion to that scene isn't written yet. 


	16. madness

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
****warnings, apologies and excuses*   
Swearing and lots of it.  
This chapter may seem a bit insane. Please know that I mean no offence to anyone.  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 15  
*****************************************  
  
Having managed to shake his pursuers for the moment, The assassin had headed for the Interstate. He'd only been on the freeway a few miles before he felt Gabriel's weight start to deaden against him.   
  
Ian figured that whatever sustenance Sara had managed to get into the young man was expended. Gabriel's outburst of colorful expletives when two cars tried to pin them in must have taken up quite a bit of energy, in and of itself.   
  
Nottingham decided to take the next exit and either get some food into the boy or tie him to the bike. He didn't want to have to explain to Mr. Irons nor Lady Sara that he lost the young man because he fell off the motorcycle. As it was, Gabriel had lost consciousness completely now, and although Ian had caught him in time, he could feel the boy's feet starting to slip.  
  
He pulled off the freeway. Finding no open restaurants, he settled on a gas station-cum-party store. As he was parking his motorcycle, Gabriel stirred slightly and the assassin decided to get one potential hazard taken care of. Pulling a cord from his coat, he bound the boy's legs and draped him over the bike before filling his tank. He would have to untie them before starting off again, but for now he was taking no chances. He had no intentions of chasing the young entrepreneur around the lot or getting his shins kicked. The boy was drained at the moment but seemed to have caches of energy that appeared at unpredictably inconvenient moments for the assassin.   
  
The motorcycle tank filled, it was time to address the food issue, as Ian was a bit hungry himself. He considered leaving Gabriel draped across the bike, but the assassin wasn't positive he'd not been tailed. He decided it would be too easy for the Sufult to just pick up the unconscious package.   
  
Clutching Gabriel to his side, he entered the store. The attendant behind the counter gawked at the limp body that Nottingham was casually carrying around the small store as he selected foodstuffs.  
  
"Um, mister?" the attendant finally got the nerve up to query.  
  
"Yes?" Ian responded, not bothering to look at the other man as he checked the expiration date on a box of biscuits.  
  
The attendant began to wonder if he'd made a mistake by addressing the stranger. The man in black seemed to behave as if there was nothing odd about dragging a body around a convenience store.   
  
Nottingham collected a few things he deemed edible and raided the cooler before approaching the counter. The clerk seemed to be a bit frightened of him and had backed up slightly when he approached the counter.  
  
"Your, uh...friend there," he stammered. Pointing nervously at Gabriel, he continued, "He's not, y'know, um de- um... Is he okay?"  
  
The assassin eyed the nosy attendant with disdain before responding, "He's Narcoleptic, I'm afraid the ride was just too exciting for him." Placing the items and money on the counter, he added, "I'd prefer a bag with handles."  
  
For some reason it took the clerk a moment for this to sink in. Encouraged by the intimidating man's reply, he annoyed Ian with another question. "Why are his legs tied?" he asked.  
  
Ian was getting peeved at the irksome inquisitor. "He has seizures and must be restrained, lest he harm himself," Nottingham explained while shoving the money closer to the man.  
  
"Ah, I see," the attendant commented before asking, "What about those bandages on his neck?"  
  
The exasperated assassin was about to snap. "The boy has trouble shaving, he's not very good at it," Nottingham snipped, gripping Gabriel a little too tight in his anger. This elicited a pained squeak from the young man, apparently appeasing the attendant.  
  
The man finally took the assassin's money and bagged up the purchases. "It's a pity about his shaving problem," the man muttered as Ian snatched the bag from his hands.  
  
"Yes, it is," Ian concurred before sweeping out of the store.  
  
The assassin was not happy with the delay caused by the nosey attendant, nor with accidentally squeezing his charge too hard. Propping the boy on the bike, he felt Gabriel's ribs just to make sure he hadn't broken one-or two. The young man began to stir from his exhaustion induced slumber so Nottingham opened a sugary, bottled latte and pressed it to his mouth.  
  
After an amusing display of sputtering and cursing, Gabriel glared at his tormentor while wiping latte from his face. "What the-" he started but was cut off as Nottingham continued his latte assault. Ian managed to get at least half of it down the boy's throat before Gabriel angrily pushed it away.  
  
"Stop it!" Gabriel barked, still coughing and trying to back away from the deranged assassin who was doing an awful job of playing nursemaid. "What in the hell are you doing?" the young man demanded irritably.  
  
"You've lost blood and you need to eat," Nottingham replied, aiming a nutrition bar at the boy. He had lost time and patience because of the garrulous attendant and he wasn't thrilled with Gabriel's little hissy fit. Ignoring Gabriel's protesting hands, Nottingham shoved the bar against the boy's mouth, but he was being belligerent as usual.   
  
"Mph, no-," Gabriel protested, trying to push the assassin's arm away.  
  
On the 'no' part Ian managed to ram the bar into the younger man's mouth. Ian found the funny noise this produced from the boy quite amusing. Snickering, Ian backed off and allowed Gabriel to finish the bar by himself.  
  
With a furious snarl, Gabriel snatched the bar out of his mouth. Gritting his teeth he pointed the nutritious snack at his assailant as he unleashed his tirade. "You sick son-of-a-bitch! Fucking hell, Nottingham! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why in Valhalla were you trying to force-feed me?!"   
  
"You were being too slow," the assassin replied. He was a little surprised by the young man's hostility.  
  
"Slow? What the..." Gabriel was aghast at the man's completely mental methodology. *Why did Sara leave me with this menace?* he wondered in dismay. He also noticed that his legs were tied again. *What in the hell did the man have against legs?*  
  
"We've already wasted too much time here and I'm not certain if the man who works here is not one of the Sufult. He asked too many questions. Now, stop being belligerent and eat that," Ian demanded, pointing at the health bar still clenched in the boy's hand.  
  
"Belligerent?!" Gabriel gaped in disbelief. "You tied me up, tried to choke me with a candy bar and got me all sticky!" Gabriel accused, pointing at his shirt, which was decorated with splotches of the sugary latte. "How in the hell did you expect me to react?"   
  
Nottingham raised his eyebrows in amusement. The boy was quite a pistol. "If I truly wanted to choke you, I could do so easily," Ian responded. "However, my only intent is to get you somewhere safe in order to appease both Lady Sara and my employer. You need to take sustenance or this night's ordeal will exacerbate your already weak condition. You may feel fine at the moment, but I assure you, as soon as your adrenaline wears out, you will be impuissant."  
  
Gabriel leveled an angry glare at the assassin. He didn't like how the assassin seemed to believe his own maniacal behavior was completely justified while Gabriel's reaction to this behavior was somehow outlandishly childish. Of course he felt weak, he was tired as hell actually, but that didn't mean he should willingly endure the assassin's bizarre treatment. "Yeah, I get that, Nottingham," Gabriel replied crossly. "I'll eat the damn candy bar if you untie me," Gabriel negotiated.  
  
"It is a nutrition bar not a candy bar, Gabriel, It's good for you," the assassin coaxed.  
  
Annoyed with Nottingham's inane attempts at playing 'mom', Gabriel glowered at the man until the assassin conceded to the deal before nibbling on the nutritious snack.   
  
Gabriel could tell Nottingham was about to spout some enthusiastically encouraging yet condescending comment so he shot the assassin a warning glare. Nottingham merely smirked and began untying his legs.  
  
  
********************  
  
As one of his attendants left the room, Magistrate Banol scowled. The Wielder had averted her demise at the hands of the Sufult...again. The scout said it looked as if something had tipped her off at the last minute. Once more, they had drawn attention to their presence with no reward.   
  
He hoped the Consul would not find out about this little fiasco. Luckily Consul Damak seemed overwhelmed at the moment, torn between reports on the progress of their pursuit of the artifact dealer and some other development.   
  
Although Magistrate Banol's attempt at killing the Wielder had failed, he 'had' managed to separate her from Mr. Bowman. Magistrate Banol decided to take full advantage of this possibly brief opportunity and concentrate the agents' attention on capturing the young man.   
  
Although the assassin had subverted their snare and escaped with the artifact dealer, one spy had managed to furtively tail him. Consul Damak's ambush, set up near Irons' estate to prevent Nottingham from bringing the quarry to his employer's stronghold was futile. The assassin seemed to be bound elsewhere.  
  
  
  
************************************************** 


	17. mayhem part one

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. Twinkieª belongs to Hostess, I think.  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 16  
*****************************************************  
Sara and Jake, Mercer street  
**************************  
  
The pre-dawn quiet of Mercer Street had been violated by the explosion from the alley. A deliveryman, fortunately protected by his sturdy truck, watched as his packages were assaulted by flying debris. While Sara had been thrown several feet, an industrial size box of Twinkiesª had interrupted Jake's trajectory.   
  
Unable to withstand the force of the human missile, the simple cardboard box exploded on impact. Freed from their prison, the plastic wrapped 'confections' shot out in every direction. Twinkies scattered about the street surrounding the stunned detective. Many of the supposedly indestructible logs of sugar were flattened by the man's collision, but at least the spongy encasing and durable filling had softened Jake's landing.  
  
Sara had been so consumed with Nottingham's tacit betrayal that it didn't occur to her to check Jake's condition until after Danny had departed. Scanning the area, she spotted him a few yards away. He was lying in a pile of paper boxes and smushed foodstuffs with a perplexed look on his face.   
  
Relieved that her partner seemed to have survived the blast, Sara quickly speculated Danny's brief message. She suspected there was some second meaning to his last sentence but Sara didn't have time to figure it out at the moment. The important matter was that her ethereal friend had shook his head 'no' to her question. That Ian hadn't known about the bomb assuaged her worst fears but unveiled new ones. This meant that the Sufult had managed to slip something past the 'Prince of Paranoia'.  
  
Both Ian and Gabriel had said the Sufult would not attack the Wielder directly. Underhanded as it was, She still considered it a direct attack. They had obviously changed their strategy and this did not bode well. If Nottingham was unaware of the sect's tactics and intentions, he and Gabriel were at a greater risk, along with her and the Blade. Despite the failure of their assassination attempt, the Sufult had still managed to separate her from her friend and the assassin who had promised to keep him safe.   
  
Sara was brought out of her speculations by a moan from Jake. He was grabbing his knee and rocking a bit, obviously in pain. "Oh man, I 'so' did not see that one coming," he complained.  
  
Sara ran over and knelt to check his injury but couldn't resist a reprimand, especially after his 'Dante-esque' performance in the car. "Well, that's what you get for not listening to me, rookie," she stated, making sure the word 'rookie' had just the right flavor of disdain to it.  
  
Jake received the backhanded comment with grace, much to his acclaim. Hanging his head and shaking it with a grin on his face, he responded, "I know, I know... You're the big dog and I'm the pup." Looking up at her with a sheepish smile, he added, "Sorry for the interrogation, I had no right."  
  
Sara was frustrated. *Why won't anyone just let me stay mad at them?* All of this waffling between trust/suspicion, anger/concern and relief/anxiety was making her crazy.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, save it for the showgirls, Casanova, we gotta get you to a hospital," she replied. Sara looked at her wrist and scanned the area, the gem was pulsing slightly and she wasn't sure what to make of it. Rather than waiting around for more fireworks, she decided it was time to get out of there.   
  
Resisting the urge to just drag him to the thankfully unharmed police vehicle, Sara checked him for serious injuries first. According to Jake, other than an injured knee and Twinkieª filling in embarrassing areas, he was okay. Mentally, she smirked at what the initial reaction of the medical staff to his appearance would be. Apparently, the occasionally defamed baked goods had taken their own revenge for their malignment. Though Jake tried his best to rid himself of his unintentional adornment, certain areas were still smeared with a thin layer of cream filling.  
  
Sara helped her partner into the car and impatiently sped off to the nearest medical facility. Although her foremost need was to get Jake and herself out of harm's way, Sara couldn't help but worry about how Gabriel and Nottingham were faring but it would have to wait. Hopefully Nottingham was keeping to his word.  
*****************************************************tbc  
a/n - I don't know if anyone noticed or cares, but Mercer Street is where Gabriel kept seeing Lazar in 'coincidence' and is also the location where this story started off. The body is, of course, the man who was stalking Gabriel and whom Nottingham killed - the first casualty of the story (Not counting grammatical errors or jaded readers).   
*******  
A big thank you to Roguegal17 once again and the people who have reviewed this story.  
  
I've been mentally exhausted from a heavy workload; computer problems; social chaos and a deranged cat, hence the delayed chapter. With prompting, I may get up the energy to put the finishing touches on the second part of this piece (Ian & Gabe) and post it. We'll see... So busy, so tired. 


	18. mayhem part two

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 17   
*****************************************  
Stars sparkled in the night sky over the gas station-cum-party store, their brilliance unobstructed by the usual glow of city lights. Gabriel could still make out the incandescent haze of New York in the distance and concluded that they hadn't actually traveled very far. Judging by the fact that a bar was still open, he figured it must be before 2am even though it felt like it should be much later.  
  
As the assassin untied Gabriel's legs, he kept a close eye on the party store and any signs of movement in the vicinity. He could hear the raucous banter from a nearby pub over the hum of the freeway and the attendant muttering to himself, but not much else. His mind kept drifting to Lady Sara. Ian was beginning to get an unpleasant feeling about her assignment, but with no plausible reason why. He'd sensed no ill intentions or deceit from Jake.   
  
Meanwhile, the inhabitants of his surroundings appeared benign. The party store attendant was refilling a candy display, having lost interest in the assassin and his charge after Gabriel's tantrum ended, and the few cars that approached had pulled up to the pub.   
  
While removing the last knot on Gabriel's bindings, he felt the young man stiffen. Thinking he was about to bolt again, Ian grasped Gabriel's leg firmly but the boy did not move nor speak. He was gazing with rapt attention at something behind the assassin.   
  
Gripping the rearview mirror he'd been using to keep his balance, Gabriel discreetly rotated it. Realizing the young man's purpose, the assassin followed Gabriel's movements while making a show of stowing the cord.   
  
As what the boy was staring at came into view in the motorcycle's mirror, Nottingham tried to think of the best way of escaping. It turned out that the cars pulling up to the rowdy pub had not been customers after all.   
  
The men aiming guns at them from inside their vehicles seemed to be waiting for something. Noticing the man in a back seat who was focusing a listening device through an open window, the assassin was grateful that Gabriel had not spoken his warning. Whether it was out of fear or the young man's technical savvy, Ian was not sure.  
  
The assassin noted that a bank of gas pumps separated Gabriel and himself from the Sufult. Since the sect most likely wanted the boy alive, Ian surmised that they were waiting for them to leave the gas station. Accidentally blowing up their intended captive would probably not please their superiors.   
  
Judging by their number and position, the chances of the assassin escaping without incident were not good. Ian was dismayed, once again, that he had neglected to bring a grenade launcher.  
  
His earlier choice of exit was now negated by the Sufult's position and he would be forced to take back roads. The assassin would be vulnerable for a few seconds as he made the gap between the pumps and the road. But he suspected Gabriel would serve as a shield once he had his back to them. He doubted they would want to shoot the boy.  
  
His escape route decided, he turned his attention to the task at hand.  
  
Not daring to stand up and give them a good target, he reached over and subtly pulled Gabriel's face close to his, while covertly drawing a gun. "Get ready for a ride," the assassin whispered. With that, the assassin spun. Aiming past the pump, he took out three of the armed men he'd spotted in the mirror while throwing a leg over the bike and starting it.   
  
One of the Sufult squeezed off a wild round and the bullet ricocheted alarmingly off various surfaces of the gas station, sending sparks flying around them. Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Nottingham made a break for the road.   
  
The assassin hurtled through the spray of gunfire with Gabriel latching on to him fiercely while trying to gain his balance. For once, the boy's reflexes had served to the assassin's advantage.  
****************************************tbc  
  
Thank you for the reviews, they do spur me on, you know.   
  
Though I did go insane and revise this chapter to the point of having to go back to the original, the next part of the boys' little adventure seems pretty good to go, or close to it. It's the other character's parts that will be holding the next part up, unless people are just interested in the guys. Dunno, looks like I have a break from insanity today, so I may get to wrap things up before the madness of life ensues.  
  
Hee! I love the solutions to the cat problem! Hysterical!   
Unfortunately for me and the cat, I took the traditional route. The vet gave me antipsychotic drugs (for the cat, although maybe she'll share). I only managed to get one down her before she caught on and now she checks my hands before approaching. How she can spot such a tiny pill is beyond me, maybe she's psychic, dunno.   
  
The pill made her foam at the mouth, which was pretty scary. Though she's a little quieter, I'm not sure how well I'll sleep, knowing the monster is hiding somewhere waiting to take her revenge.   
  
Roguegal17- Sorry for all of my waffling on this chapter. Things have been so crazy busy that it's hard to maintain a straight thought. I decided to spare you (ANOTHER) revision and hope my lame spell check does it's best. I hope your computer is being kinder to you.  
a~ 


	19. rupture

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not.   
***   
The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
Tenebrous   
chapter 18  
**************************************  
  
Ian swerved onto the road, banking heavily to the side so the bike wouldn't flip. None of the Sufult's shots found purchase in the assassin as they left the cover of the gas station but during the turn, he felt Gabriel give a sharp jolt. Though the young man made no discernible noise over the roar of the engine and gravel spraying, Ian worried that he'd caught one of the bullets meant for himself.  
  
Picking up speed and widening the breach between him and his pursuers, Ian yelled over the roar of the motor, "Gabriel! Have you been hit?"  
  
His only response was a muted, "Ow."  
  
Racing down the unfamiliar road, Ian deduced from the sounds of the pursuing vehicles that there were at least five still following them. He needed to get off this lonely road and back to the interstate as soon as possible. Spying a crossroad, he took it.   
  
Nottingham could feel that the young man's grip on his waist was white knuckled. The boy was either in pain, frightened or desperately clinging to consciousness. None of these conditions bode well for an extended ride. He was hoping it was just fear but realized that was being a bit optimistic. Spotting a deteriorating barn on the left side of the road in the distance, he chose it as the location for the showdown.  
  
Glancing briefly at his pursuers as he headed for the barn, he noted with satisfaction that they were distanced apart, depending on each driver's ability to make the turn. *The first must be taken out immediately,* he determined. He turned off the road and entered the barn. Slamming on the brakes and shutting the engine, he let the bike skid and fall as he grabbed his charge and dragged him to the back of he barn. He easily found the drop-space and lifted the cover. Gabriel watched him pull it away with a horrified look on his face.  
  
"You're not going to-" is all he got out before the assassin seized him and forced him into the burrow.  
  
"Silence," Ian pleaded and pulled the heavy wooden slats back into place, trapping the young man below. Hopefully, they would not find Gabriel, even if they managed to conquer his protector.  
  
Ian raced to the entrance and placed a well-aimed shot between the eyes of the first Sufult to approach before the others had a chance to arrive and bring the battle to chaos.  
  
Gabriel lay in his shallow grave, the stinging burn on his back ignored as he listened intently to the gunfire above. He heard a single shot, the squealing of tires and then the thunderous sound of many vehicles approaching. Some stopped, while others seemed to circle. He was having a hard time placing anything, as sounds of violence seemed to erupt from every direction.   
  
After a bit, the sounds of gunfire grew farther and farther apart. *Nottingham must be winning,* he thought to himself. Just as he thought this, he heard a pained growl, unmistakably Nottingham, come from somewhere to his left. In a bizarre gut reaction, his hand flew to the four by eight wooden slats that pinned him. He stopped himself just in time to realize that he would be of no help out in the open, even if he could get out.  
  
Another round of fire and then he heard the sound of wood cracking. A few shots and then what sounded like metal swishing and making contact. At the same time, he heard a heavy thud and grunt. *He's fighting two hand to hand?* Gabriel mused.   
  
The sounds of fighting between what sounded like five men seemed perilously long before Gabriel heard a gasp of pain, followed by a sickening sound, like a knife pulling out of a slab of meat... and the dull thud of a body hitting the floor.   
  
Silence filled Gabriel's ears, he wondered if his hearing had failed until he heard the squeak of the wooden floor. Someone was prowling around the barn.  
  
Fear and dread exploded in Gabriel's chest. *Had they killed Nottingham?* He wasn't overly fond of the maniacal killer but at the same time it was horrifying to think that he was slain. Although he had reason enough to resent him, he still seemed to be 'a good guy', so to speak.  
  
As the footsteps drew near, Gabriel held his breath, trying not to make a sound. The sound of footfall stopped right in front of the latch to his prison, as if taunting him. Ridiculously, he hoped it was Nottingham, toying with him, as he seemed wont to do for his own amusement.   
  
*  
*  
*  
**************************************tbc   
~  
Hm, Aren't I just the posting fiend all of a sudden. What can I say, I actually had a day off from chaos and decided to post this before I revised it to death.  
  
Getting an email box full of reviews instead of work was also a nice prompt.  
  
Roguegal17 gets a break once again as she didn't have to re-beta this. It has had a few small tweaks since the first beta, so if any of this seems wrong, it's not her fault. (I will, however be harassing her about the next parts very soon). Sorry Roguegal. I noticed your silence over a certain ah, linen incident. Should I remove it?  
  
It does seem a bit optimistic for Ian to have hoped that they wouldn't find Gabriel, but I figured they may have assumed he'd made a break for the woods or elsewhere during the fight if they weren't aware of drop spaces in some older barns.  
  
Thanks again, for humoring me by reading this little jaunt. Actually, I can't really call it little anymore. This thing is turning into a monster. Sorry, the muses must like to drag things out. 


	20. stasis

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
~denotes a different time frame (Flashback, of sorts)  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 19  
****************************************************************  
"How's the knee doing, Jake?" Sara asked, a bit concerned over her partner's relatively quiet demeanor. She was contemplating her next move as they headed for the hospital. They needed to contact the station and file a report on the incident. She doubted Dante would be pleased about them fleeing the scene but Sara doubted sticking around would have been a good idea, either. Reluctantly, she picked up the CB radio. She knew the longer she waited, the worse the backlash would be.   
  
"It's pretty-" Jake started to reply, but was cut off as Sara spoke into the device.   
  
"10 -1, this is Pezzini. There's been an explosion in the alley between 66 and 68 Mercer, location of reported homicide. Officer McCartey's injured, I'm taking him to Saint Luke's," Sara reported.   
  
"10 -4," came the immediate reply. There was a pause before the dispatcher confirmed that a unit was being sent to investigate.  
  
Sara glanced at her partner. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?" she asked, as if Jake had interjected instead of simply replying to her query.  
  
"Nothing I can't hand -" Jake tried to reply, but was cut off again, as the CB crackled and Sara made a grab for it.  
  
"Pezzini, there was no report of a homicide on Mercer," the dispatcher relayed.  
  
"Great," Sara muttered before giving an appropriate response. "There was a body, but it probably isn't more than particles now," Sara replied. She wasn't thrilled about the pile of paperwork she'd have to complete to explain this one. "I'll file a report once I get back to the station," she continued. "Right now, I've gotta take care of my partner. Just make sure the other officers are wary, I'm not sure what we're up against." Her last statement was frighteningly true.   
  
"Jake, the call was obviously bogus. Who called you and what phone did you get the call on?" Sara queried.  
  
"My home phone. I didn't recognize the voice but they said they were from dispatch," Jake explained. He hadn't thought to question the validity of the call, as the city tended to rotate its dispatcher frequently.   
  
"I see," Sara replied, frowning. It all fit nicely. She'd been played. The Sufult knew what she did for a living and who her partner was. Furtively checking the rearview mirror for a tail, she wondered what connections the Sufult had and what they planned to do next. The inability to contact Gabriel and Ian escalated her anxiety. Unfortunately, Nottingham hadn't given her his number and she hadn't seen Gabriel's cell phone among his belongings.   
  
She was becoming increasingly apprehensive about an organization of villains she'd never even seen, save the dead one's in Gabriel's flat. That she knew next to nothing about them didn't help matters.   
  
*You picked an awful time to be hunted, Gabriel,* she thought, wishing he were there to give her some clue as to what exactly she was up against. She was glad Nottingham was protecting him, at least.  
  
She hoped the assassin would call her soon.  
********************   
Gabriel's entire body tensed as he heard the sound of a hand gaining purchase on the latch. Weaponless and pinned in the shallow space, there wasn't much he could do to defend himself. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to be captured by the Sufult without doing his best to make the man's task difficult.   
  
The trap door was lifted abruptly and the figure jumped back just in time to avoid Gabriel's instinctive kick. The young entrepreneur recoiled in response, readying to flee. It was then that he had a chance to register the face of the man. As he beheld Nottingham peering down at him, he sighed in relief despite himself. "Bastard," he muttered. Nottingham gave a pleased smile in response.  
  
The assassin reached down and grabbed the young man's arm, eliciting a hiss of pain from Gabriel as he pulled him out of the furrow.   
  
"You 'would' get shot just to spite me," the assassin complained, noticing the dark stain on the younger man's jacket.  
  
"I think that was meant for you. You could at least thank me for saving you the pain," Gabriel rejoined.   
  
"I am capable of dealing with great amounts of pain," Ian stated dryly.  
  
"Well, then if you have any powers of empathetic extraction, I'd appreciate if you could deal with mine for me," Gabriel suggested. Having said this, he noticed the assassin's sleeve was slashed open and there was a deep gash in his left bicep. "Um, scratch that, looks like you've got your own to deal with," he corrected himself.  
  
Nottingham glanced at his injury and responded," This? It is only a flesh wound."  
  
"So said the knights of Ni," Gabriel muttered.  
  
"Knights of Ni?" Ian queried. "I've never heard of them."   
  
"Never mind, your bleeding like a, ah... You need to have that dressed," Gabriel stated wearily.  
  
"I left my kit at Lady Sara's," Nottingham replied. He was surprised that the young man would show any concern for his well being, especially after his health bar tantrum.  
  
"Lady?" Gabriel prodded, raising an eyebrow.   
  
This earned him a warning look from Nottingham.   
  
"Okay, okay" Gabriel capitulated, holding up his hands. Despite the assassin's volatile nature, he continued to address the topic of Nottingham's wound. "Unless you're inhuman, which you very well may be, you will be in the same impuissant state as I am if you don't get that taken care of," Gabriel insisted, nodding towards the assassin's injury.   
  
Ian appraised the cut and grimaced. "Perhaps you are right, if there are any clean and preferably non-dyed clothes in your backpack, I would appreciate the donation," Ian conceded reluctantly. The assassin was a bit piqued at having to ask favors from the capricious young man he was charged to protect.  
  
Gabriel pulled off his pack and rooted around. "Um, only thing white is boxers," he shrugged.  
  
Ian winced, but held his dignity at bay. "Fine then, are they clean?  
  
Gabriel was insulted, "Of course they're clean. Jeeze, Nottingham!"  
  
"Very well," Ian growled, and snatched Gabriel's boxers. He was not thrilled with the idea of sporting the young man's undergarments. *If Gabriel EVER mentioned to another that he had used... Oh, he would pay!*  
  
Gabriel watched irritably as Nottingham tore apart his linens and did a piss poor job of making a tourniquet out of them. The location of the injury made it impossible for the assassin to hold the cloth properly with his left hand. It was worse than watching someone trying to eat peas with a knife.  
  
"Oh, give me that!" Gabriel scowled finally, and snatched the cloths. He quickly bundled one, placing it on the wound and tying it off with the other. Completing the tourniquet without bothering to ask for Nottingham's permission, he was surprised to see the assassin's beaming and amused face when he'd finished.   
  
"What?" Gabriel asked, confused by the scary man's almost human expression.  
  
"You will make an excellent mother someday," Ian snickered.   
  
"You're such an ass," Gabriel muttered. At the back of his mind he was vaguely aware that his sleep depravation was making him more candid than usual. He was just now realizing he was lucky that he hadn't been punished by the man for calling him names.  
  
"Now you," Nottingham insisted, turning towards the young man.  
  
"Now me, what?" Gabriel asked, backing up nervously. Maybe the assassin was going to punish him after all.  
  
"Your back is covered in blood, the Wielder will be very displeased with me if she finds out I let you be harmed. Let me look at the injury," Ian demanded. He had promised Lady Sara that nothing would happen to her friend and was a bit miffed that he'd unintentionally broken his promise.   
  
"I'm fine," Gabriel argued, taking another step back. He didn't like the idea of the beastly leash, latte and health bar assailant having access to something that already hurt.  
  
Ian ignored Gabriel's protest and decided to handle this in his usual manner. Lunging at Gabriel, he deftly snatched the young man by his jacket and pinned him against one of the barn's support beams.  
  
A muffled expletive escaped Gabriel when Nottingham pulled his shirt up to reveal the laceration. Luckily, the bullet had only grazed the flesh. Although the wound was not deep, it was bleeding freely now that the coagulated blood had been ripped from his skin. *Oh well,* thought Nottingham, *that was bound to happen sooner or later.*  
********************  
Brother Nolan showed up late to the gas station sortie. Arriving just in time to witness the pack of Sufult vehicles disappearing down the road, he ordered Brother Rason to follow but not give chase. "With the number of them, and the speed they're traveling at, they won't be hard to track on these gravel roads," he explained.  
  
~  
After the assassin had fled the Wielder's apartment with the boy, Brother Pedious had ordered Nolan to pack up and wait to be picked up by an agent in a nearby alley. He'd been relieved to break contact with Brother Pedious and hoped the driver would not be Brother Wickel. Brother Wickel's fanaticism would most definitely send them into the next fray and Brother Nolan preferred circumspect machinations to open battles.  
  
He was a bit surprised when a beat-up Nova with 'Mad Max' spray-painted on it's side pulled into the alley. Fortunately, Brother Rason was behind the wheel.   
  
"Mad Max?" Brother Nolan queried as he entered the car. 'Mad Max' didn't fit Rason's personality at all, and Brother Rason was the least likely member to decorate his vehicle.  
  
"Neighborhood vandals," Brother Rason groaned. "I don't know what it means, my name isn't even Max."   
  
Brother Nolan hid his smirk. Although the graffiti made the car conspicuous, at least it was not as suspicious as the black SUVs and sedans the other brothers were so fond of. "So what is our assignment?" Nolan asked.  
  
"The Assassin has stopped at a gas station," Rason replied. "An ambush is being established at the moment. Magistrate Banol would like us to discreetly observe but not join in the attack. Basic spy stuff."   
  
Brother Nolan smiled; glad his superiors had come to their senses regarding the seemingly supernatural abilities of Irons' assassin.  
~  
  
Now they were hidden behind a scraggly stand of gnarled trees and wild shrubbery. Brother Rason was aiming a listening device at the barn while Nolan peered through his Bushnells.  
  
The slaughter of his other brothers had been impressive. The assassin had taken out two of the Sect's sharpshooters before Nolan and Rason had even arrived. Though a handful of the Sufult managed to get inside the barn, none had come out. "I knew that man was more dangerous than most," Brother Nolan muttered to himself.  
  
It was time to stop waiting for blind hierarchy to make decisions regarding an opponent they were incapable of understanding. He would deal with the assassin his way.  
  
*  
*  
*  
*******************************************tbc  
  
.  
Author's note: I am truly sorry for the wait. The Ian & Gabriel part of this chapter had actually been written over a month ago but has been held up till now due to other issues. I didn't realize I'd left a cliffie until the reviews popped up beginning with "Argh!". Sorry.   
  
I was having difficulties with the Sara/Jake part (She would have a lot on her mind at this point and it was difficult sorting it out and putting it into words). It needed to be in this chapter to keep the times of everything synchronized and also to give you readers a break from the Ian/Gabe deluge that has happened over the past couple chapters.  
  
Fae Rain - I'm thrilled beyond belief that you noted the smiley face coffee mug incident. It is a favorite of mine and no one else seemed to notice it. I'm glad to know someone else has the same sense of humor. :-)  
  
Thank you for the reviews and please keep them coming. They perk me up and remind me to work on this monster. 


	21. melodies & misunderstandings

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. I'm not getting anything out of this, other than amusement and a few headaches.   
  
************************** denotes change of scenery  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 20  
*****************************************************  
  
Sara pulled into Saint Lukes. While Jake was being admitted, she began to dial Irons' number. She really did not want to talk to the man, but he was the only other person she could hope to get information from. Halfway through, she changed her mind. After disconnecting, her phone picked up an incoming call.  
  
Her heart leaped, hoping it was Nottingham telling her they were okay. Instead, it was a tele-marketer. Although she knew their job was most likely just as grueling as hers was in many aspects, at the moment she had no patience for this irritation.   
  
The poor being on the other end of the line would be leaving their job with a whole new vocabulary of curse-words.  
  
After venting, Sara turned her attention to Jake. He seemed to be in an argument with the nurse admitting him.  
  
"No! It's just my knee, that's all! I don't have any problems with- Ah, for crying out loud... Sara, could you help me out here?" Jake complained.  
  
The nurse had a hand on her hip and a saucy look on her face as she pointedly leered at what Jake was trying to conceal. Much to Jake's dismay, the disturbance was garnering the attention of the rest of the medical staff in the vicinity.  
  
Unfortunately for Jake, the Witchblade chose that moment to assault his partner with visions. - Bullets firing; an eye peering through a lens: men in cloaks conversing; a barn?, Irons staring at a manuscript or map.  
  
"No, really, I just want my knee looked at, she does this a lot. She's just thinking of the best way to... Oh screw it." At this point, Jake was ready to go along with the staff's crazy conclusions to his cream smears.  
  
Just then, Sara came out of the trance. "Jake, can you take care of the paperwork on the case once your knee is looked at?" Sara asked. She inadvertently ceased the hospital staff's wayward theories by her query.  
**************************  
  
Irons tossed and turned in his sleep repeatedly. The Witchblade connection was making him feel ill at ease. It didn't help that this thought somehow triggered 'Kermit the Frog's rendition of 'Rainbow connection'. He'd never seen the movie, of course, but the adverts had been everywhere and the cursed song was now playing merrily in his head.   
  
He'd sensed the Wielder's distress and wondered what could be pissing her off now. Still annoyed by Kermit's lingering melody, he mentally addressed what he knew about the various opponents and decided to let the situation play itself out. He would need his sleep to deal with the aftermath. At the moment, there was nothing he could do. Ian and the Wielder were on their own.   
**************************  
  
Pinned against the wooden beam by one of the assassin's ridiculously large forearms, Gabriel resignedly waited for Nottingham to get the task over with. After his shirt had been none too gently yanked away, the pain of the wound throbbed and he could feel the warmth of his blood pouring down his back. The throbbing was then replaced by the pressure of Nottingham's hand, as the assassin was apparently trying to shove him clear through the support beam.   
  
After what seemed like an eternity of having his lower back crushed, the pressure was finally released and he felt Nottingham change positions.  
  
*  
Being that the boy really didn't need to lose any more blood, the assassin had quickly torn a strip from the remainder of the boxers and staunched the flow. After applying pressure for a few minutes, he knelt to check the wound. The blood flow had minimized, but dirt and bits of straw from the drop-space had gotten into the wound. It would have to be cleaned.   
  
Ian pulled the bottled water he'd purchased at the party store from his coat. Having been nicely heated from being on the assassin's person during the arduous battle, the warm water would probably lessen Gabriel's discomfiture during the cleansing process. Opening it with one hand, the assassin wetted the cloth and began cleaning the wound.  
  
*  
  
Circulation had returned to Gabriel's lower back and judging by feel of Nottingham's breath there, the assassin had kneeled to examine the bullet wound. Gabriel didn't feel the warm bath of blood as before and was anxiously waiting for the assassin to finish and let him go when he heard a strange noise from behind him.  
  
He was in the middle of trying to figure out what Nottingham was doing when he felt something warm and wet touch his injury.  
  
"What the- Whoa! Hey!" Gabriel yelped, while trying to squirm away. Unfortunately, he was being pinned and the beam he was pinned against wasn't moving.  
  
"Hold still!" Nottingham growled as he attempted to remove the debris.   
  
Between the assassin's breath and the warm wetness touching his backside, Gabriel had concluded that Nottingham was licking his injury and he was disturbed beyond belief. "Stop it!" he yelled, but the distressing sensations continued. He'd craned his neck, hoping to see something that proved his assumptions wrong, but all he could see was the assassin's shoulder.  
  
*  
  
Ian was annoyed that the boy was throwing such a fit. Sure, it would be painful to have your raw flesh aggravated, but at least the water was warm and he was actually putting some effort into being gentle. He was offended that his efforts were unappreciated by the brat. *Such a whiner,* Nottingham scoffed. He decided to retaliate by none so gently gauging out the last bit of dirt. This elicited a pained howl from the boy, but at least it made him behave.  
  
*  
  
The extremely painful jab into the center of his injury nearly made Gabriel pass out. He didn't understand why the man seemed to go out of his way to torment him. Tired and sore, he decided to just let the madman have his way with him.   
  
Protesting was getting him nowhere and he didn't think he could take much more punishment. Yielding to his doom, he tried to ignore what the assassin was doing to him. As he was sick and tired of both Nottingham and the Sufult, his thoughts turned to Sara. He was wondering if she was safe and wished he could call her.  
  
Unfortunately, he didn't have his cell phone. Nottingham hadn't given it back to him after the evening's earlier fracas. He wondered if the assassin still had it, but didn't want to risk inciting the demoniac into another attack by asking him. The man would probably just assume he wanted to tattle on him and that wouldn't go well at all.  
  
*  
  
Satisfied that the wound was clean, Ian used the last of the linens to cover it. Using the roll of tape usually reserved for gagging or strapping weapons; he secured the bandage and put away his tools. Although Gabriel had been obediently still through the rest of the assassin's ministrations, Ian worried that the boy had taken his reprimand a little too harshly.  
  
Before releasing him from the post, he gave him a tentative pat on the shoulder. When this garnered no reaction other than a flinch, he decided to pull out the big guns. "I apologize for my roughness, Mr. Bowman. I was simply exasperated by your ...remonstration," Ian stated. He kept his grip on the boy, just in case Gabriel attempted to bolt anyway.  
  
There was a long pause before Gabriel finally spoke. It seemed as if he were trying to choose his words carefully. "I know this may seem odd to you, Nottingham, but I have serious issues with you licking me," Gabriel explained solemnly.  
  
Ian was completely thrown by this statement. What on earth was Gabriel talking about? "Licking you? I have no intention of ..." Nottingham trailed off as it suddenly occurred to him what Gabriel was referring to. The outrageous image this provoked in the assassin's mind, along with Gabriel's previous panicked indignation, sent the assassin into uncontrollable peals of laughter.   
  
Shaking with mirth, Ian could barely stand. After a few minutes, he managed to reign himself in enough to realize he was using Gabriel as a support. Under the assassin's weight, the frightened and confused young man was struggling to breathe.  
  
The assassin, who's howling laughter had lowered to choked chuckles, released the pressure but maintained a grip on Gabriel's jacket. Judging by Gabriel's expression, he was definitely going to bolt if given the chance now. The boy obviously thought he was completely mental.   
  
Trying to control his amusement long enough to get out a statement to calm the young man was not easy. After a couple attempts, aborted by snorts and snickers, -Every time he tried to speak, Gabriel would brace himself and the ludicrous image would pop into Ian's head again.- the assassin finally managed a complete sentence.  
  
"I was- Ha! It was- heh heh ... Ahem. That was bottled water," Ian finally managed to choke out.  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gabriel shouted crossly.   
  
Although it wasn't the response Nottingham was trying for, at least Gabriel didn't look terrified anymore. Sustaining his grip on the young man's jacket, he reached into his coat with his free hand. Procuring the remaining water and stained cloth, he handed the bottle to Gabriel.   
  
Scowling, Gabriel reluctantly accepted the bottle. As the tittering assassin began making dabbing motions with the cloth, realization crossed Gabriel's face briefly before he felt his cheeks flush with blood. *Oh, how embarrassing!* he winced.  
  
Ian noticed Gabriel's quick comprehension and immediate embarrassment. The boy's cheeks and ears were positively pink. Gabriel was keenly perceptive. However, this trait had betrayed him by lack of information. Still amused but realizing he had caused compounded trauma to Gabriel unintentionally, Ian grasped the young man's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.  
  
Gabriel hung his head and groaned. The tips of his ears blushing fiercely.  
*  
*********************************  
a/n: Weird chapter, I know. I don't know what the hell is going on with the muses and I know I haven't addressed the sneaky Sufult but that will have to be done carefully and without whatever deranged muse was involved with this chapter.   
  
I can actually blame Roguegal17 for some of the madness, since she suggested Ian work in utter silence while tending to Gabe's back. She thought it would be unnerving for anyone to not see what someone was doing and not being talked through it would add to the stress. Between my reasoning and the muse, things got odd. Sorry if anyone was freaked out.  
  
'Staunch' means to stop the flow, usually referring to blood. I'm using the 'Old French' version because that's just the way I say it. I guess I could have used 'stayed, stopped or the modern version; stanch, but I don't like the sound of that word. And I'm just belligerent that way.  
  
p.s. Roguegal17 slapped some sense into me and I'm revising the April fools story. I'll post the proper bit once she's cleared it for takeoff.   
  
I'd like to express my gratitude to everyone who has bestowed me with their reviews. They are wonderful to read, cheer me up and push me to keep writing. ^_^  
  
cheers,  
a~ 


	22. spy one spy two

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. Some restrictions may apply.  
  
************************** denotes change of scenery  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 21  
*****************************************************  
  
Brother Nolan scanned the barn with his binoculars, trying to get a glimpse of any movement through windows and cracks. There had been no further activity that he could see and Brother Rason had been quiet for quite some time.   
  
Nolan disrupted his surveillance briefly to glance at Brother Rason, curious to know if the listening device was picking up anything. Startled by Brother Rason's facial expression, Brother Nolan nudged him to get his attention.  
  
"Are you picking up anything? What's going on?" Brother Nolan inquired.  
  
Brother Rason's jaw worked a few times before words actually came out. "Um, I... I am picking up conversation, but... I'm not sure what's um, going on," Rason replied uncomfortably.  
  
Slightly annoyed by the uselessness of Rason's reply, Brother Nolan clarified his request. "Who survived. Are they talking, and if so, about what?" Nolan prodded.  
  
"Iron's assassin and our quarry are... communicating. It doesn't sound as if any of our comrades survived," Brother Rason responded. "Apparently, both The assassin and Mr. Bowman are injured and there was a mention of the Wielder," he added, pausing to debate whether he should even mention the rest so far.  
  
"And?" Nolan prompted. He could see Brother Rason was hesitant about something.  
  
"What is remonstration?" Brother Rason queried, trying to understand exactly what he'd heard before trying to relay it.  
  
"Protesting or objectng," Nolan snapped, annoyed by Brother Rason switching the subject. He swore he could hear snorts of laughter coming from Rason's earpiece. "What else did you hear?" Brother Nolan demanded irritably.  
  
Brother Rason took a deep breath. "Apparently, the assassin was forcefully licking Mr. Bowman and now he's laughing maniacally," he relayed awkwardly.  
  
"Oh," Brother Nolan replied, wishing that he hadn't asked. He thought Brother Pedious was bad, but this Nottingham scoundrel sounded absolutely depraved.  
  
  
**************************  
  
  
Relieved that Sara seemed to have clarified that his knee was the only thing needing to be examined, Jake agreed to file the paperwork. Sara nodded absently and wandered over to the waiting area.   
  
As he was helped into an examination room Jake wondered how anyone who was seemingly lost in thought so often, had sensed the trap. He considered himself to be pretty alert and quick thinking, but would have never known to run in time. He didn't even want to think about what state he would be in if it weren't for Sara and the Twinkies.  
  
*  
  
Sara eyed her phone again. She honestly had no idea what to do. The vision had been odd. She guessed the men in cloaks were the Sufult, but whether it had shown her them present day or the past, was unclear. She felt that the bullets firing were a threat to Gabriel and Ian, but she had no idea how to warn them even if it wasn't already too late. The brief flash of the eye... Spies? But Nottingham already knew about them.   
  
Sara came out of her reverie and glanced around suspiciously. She wondered if it meant they were they spying on her. After making everyone in the waiting area uncomfortable with her accusatory glare, she returned her thoughts to the vision.   
  
The image of a barn made no sense, although it did remind her of an old episode of 'Lassie'. She'd always wondered if Timmy wasn't mentally challenged.   
  
The last image from her vision flashed in her mind once more, bringing her out of her unintended nostalgia. She wished she knew what Irons had been looking at. She considered calling him again, but realized he was most likely asleep.   
  
The idea of Irons sleeping cozily in a warm bed precipitated a yawn from Sara. Sleep actually sounded pretty good to the exhausted detective. Spies or no, she decided a crowded waiting room was probably one of the safer places to take a nap.  
  
*  
  
Brother Wickel glanced up from his newspaper when he noticed the woman switching positions. Allowing himself a slight smile, he watched as the Wielder nodded off to sleep.  
  
*  
*  
*****************************************************tbc  
a/n: My spacing is getting all wonked up when I post, If anyone is wondering about the extra asterisks.   
  
Roguegal- Your review was hysterical; crickets, Hee! I love it! 


	23. precipice

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
************************** denotes change of scenery  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 22  
*****************************************************  
  
Even though his orders were to simply monitor the Wielder, Brother Wickel couldn't help but speculate on how easy it would be to just kill the woman. She was in a fairly secluded corner, fast asleep and no one seemed to be paying any attention to her.   
  
He could casually sit next to her and slip his dagger into her throat before she had a chance to scream. It wouldn't even be noticed that she was dead rather than sleeping. The dark locks splayed across her shoulders would mask the blood.  
  
Curious to test his theory, Brother Wickel sidled over to where the Wielder was snoozing.  
  
*   
  
Images swirled behind Sara's closed eyes. Each one cloak and dagger betrayal; priests, priestesses and shaman, each turning to her in alarm. She could feel nets closing in around Nottingham, Gabriel and herself. Faintly, she heard garbled voices gathering volume as a thin scream pierced her consciousness.  
  
*  
  
**************************  
  
Gabriel wished he could sink into the floor. NEVER had he been so embarrassed. He waited for the invariable snide remark from Nottingham and was confused when the man gently squeezed his shoulder instead.   
  
"Your reaction was understandable, Gabriel," Ian tried to soothe. "I should have told you what I was doing," he admitted, trying to suppress another grin. Albeit, he wasn't really sorry he had confused the boy. He had never had such a good laugh in his life. He was amazed at how accurate the phrase 'side splitting laughter' was. His ribs and abdomen actually ached from the force of his mirth.  
  
Gabriel raised a cautious gaze to the assassin's face and was surprised to see a genuine smile. "You aren't going to tell Sara about this, are you?" Gabriel asked timidly. God knows he'd never hear the end of it if Sara found out he thought Nottingham was licking him and completely freaked out. Her seeing him in a dog collar was bad enough.  
  
It took less than a second for the assassin to come up with an honest reply to Gabriel's query. "Never," Ian stated. Judging by her reactions to all the other times she'd misconstrued his actions toward her friend, she'd probably just run him through with the Blade instead of waiting for an explanation. Ian wasn't sure if the Wielder was ridiculously protective or possessive of the boy, but either way, her knowledge of this incident would definitely not earn him favor.  
  
"Thanks," Gabriel offered. The assassin seemed sincere and although the man's actions seemed deranged at times, he didn't strike Gabriel as a liar.  
  
"We must depart," Nottingham stated abruptly, turning his thoughts to more dangerous and imminent matters. "I have rounded up ammunition from some of the bodies, however, I would like to face any further assault with my own weapons and from a location I am familiar with," the assassin stated. "Stay here while I procure a new vehicle," he instructed, motioning for Gabriel to sit on the floor.   
  
Gabriel obeyed, even though it made him feel like he was back in kindergarten. His adrenaline had wore off and he felt as if he would pass out on his feet. He figured he'd gotten less than two hours of sleep in the last fifty-or-so hours and the blood loss wasn't helping.   
  
As Nottingham headed outside, Gabriel crumpled to the floor. Feeling darkness beginning to wash over him, he lazily pondered his various rouses during the evening and wondered where he would wake up next.   
  
**************************   
  
Still annoyed by the scandalous mental image of Nottingham licking the boy and laughing maniacally, Brother Nolan was a bit worried when Brother Rason suddenly motioned excitedly. "The assassin is preparing to leave the barn," Rason whispered. "On foot, without Mr. Bowman. He's going to get a vehicle," he added urgently.  
  
Pleased to finally get some useful information, Brother Nolan swiftly grabbed his rifle and trained the scope on the barn's entrance. Although the angle of the moon cast what little he could see of the doorway into shadow, the moment the assassin left the cover of the building he would be bathed in moonlight. A clear and vulnerable target at last.   
  
He gripped the trigger grimly as the shadows of the entrance shifted and a booted foot appeared. He didn't envy Mr. Bowman's fate, but at least the boy's torment at the hands of the assassin had come to an end.   
  
"Goodbye, Mr. Nottingham," Brother Nolan whispered.   
  
  
*****************************************************tbc  
  
a/n: 'Hear to See' is up! Roguegal17, the wonderful and witty person who Edits my stories has posted the first chapter to her very own tale. It is her first time posting online and from what I've seen, it is brilliant. I very strongly encourage you to check it out. She is an excellent writer and the story is great. 


	24. vision

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
*words typed within asterisks signify thoughts*  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 23  
*****************************************************  
With a jolt, Sara awoke. Eyes flashing open, she beheld the face of a stranger and a flick of motion near her shoulder. "What the hell?!" she barked, startling the man and everyone else in the room. Being that he had swiftly jerked his hand away from her upper torso, she was pretty sure the degenerate had been trying to cop a feel.  
  
"Ah, sorry, I was ah..." Brother Wickel stammered.  
  
"Trying to take advantage of an unconscious woman?!" Sara supplied angrily. Her tone was loud enough to get quite a few peoples attention and all around the waiting area, people were craning their necks to get a gander at the pervert.  
  
Brother Wickel was at a loss. This had not gone well at all. The Witchblade must have somehow warned her or gave her some sort of extrasensory perception, he reasoned. He had been positive the Wielder was deep in sleep and her abrupt cognizance was unnatural.  
  
So much for his clandestine monitoring. Her unexpected, brazen accusation placed him on the receiving end of many accusing glares and the Sufult agent began to sweat. His superiors would not be pleased with his mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two burly men in security uniforms approaching, incisively signaling the end of his 'covert' surveillance.   
  
"I... I'll just be leaving, then," he blurted and dashed away, the two security men giving chase.   
  
While the occupants of the waiting room turned their attention to the scuffle in the hallway, Sara spotted a vending machine containing her beloved caffeinated beverage and made a beeline for it. Her usual vast stores of caffeine had been depleted over the course of the evening and she needed refueling.   
  
Reaching into her pocket for change, her fingers brushed against something strange. As Sara pulled the object from her jacket, the reason for Gabriel's somewhat intimate embrace dawned on her.   
  
It was his 'She Ra' locket.  
  
*Why had Gabriel given it to her?* she wondered, trailing a finger across the puerile icon. *Did he think it wasn't safe with-* Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as she was assaulted with violent visions.  
  
When she regained consciousness of her surroundings, she was completely horrified and frantic. Jake, who was now standing in front of her and leaning on a cane, looked pissed off.  
  
"Great to see you too, Pe-," he complained. But his remark was cut short by his preoccupied and highly agitated partner.  
  
"Can you excuse me a minute?" Sara croaked and skittered off, leaving the irate Rookie standing in the middle of the waiting room by himself. The rest of its occupants were at the mouth of the hallway, watching the security guards trying to latch on to the slippery Sufult. Most were cheering the guards on, but a couple of them were rooting for the pervert.   
  
Distraught with panic, Sara dialed Gabriel's number. "C'mon, c'mon," she pleaded furiously, urging him to answer. At the end of the second ring, she suddenly remembered... Gabriel didn't have his phone with him. As the realization hit her, she felt her insides turn to lead.   
  
"Oh God," she murmured, feeling hope seep through her fingers. The vivid imagery of Ian being shot in the head and Gabriel's capture played over and over in her mind, like some horror movie set on loop. They were both going to die and there was no way to warn them, no way to find them in time. She slumped against the wall, staring numbly at the hollowly ringing phone.  
  
Why hadn't Ian given her his number? Did he forget? Did he not have a phone on him or did he just not care?   
  
Praying that Iron's would help her, she decided to end the unanswered rings and call Ian's boss. Just as she was about to disconnect the phone, it spoke to her. "Sara," Ian's voice intoned.  
  
  
**************************tbc   
a/n: Thank you's and silly babbling. Nothing to do with the current chapter, nor the next. Simply responses to the ubercool people who have graciously taken the time to comment on the previous chapter.   
  
*  
*  
*  
Fae - Sorry for the wait, this turned out to be another self inflicted revision nightmare. Poor Gabe, I'm gonna have to hunt down the muse who keeps unnecessarily tormenting the fetching little minx and restrain it. I'm relieved that you at least enjoyed the cuteness, I felt bad for doing that to him.  
  
Rogue - What can I say, I noticed I hadn't fueled her throughout the entire story, that gauge had to be getting pretty low. Gah! I can't believe I actually think about these things. Thanks also, for being supportive during my little hissy fit. :)   
  
ann - Yay! A 'staunch' supporter! Sweet! I hope Sara's reaction lived up to expectations, though I do wonder if anyone thought it would be that particular one. I AM curious if people who read this story see what's coming or if I completely throw readers at every turn. Hmmm.   
  
Earth - Hee! You're in league with that naughty muse, aren't you? ;) Well, unless the muses deem otherwise...  
  
Laurie - Hee! Glad you liked my twisted little humor, hope the rest of the tale didn't send you screaming away. You brought back nostalgic memories of a fanciful time when I thought I had everything all planned out and could finish this atrocity in six chapters. Thank you. :)  
  
Thank you, again, to the kind people who reviewed, I adore you. ^_^ 


	25. shot in the dark

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
*Excuses and warnings*  
************************** denotes change of scenery  
*Swearing  
*Mention of blood  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 24  
*****************************************************  
  
Brother Nolan leveled his gaze as Nottingham emerged from the darkness. As moonlight bathed Irons' black clad assassin in silvery radiance, Brother Nolan fixed the cross hairs between Nottingham's dark eyes and fired.   
  
A blaring noise assailed Brother Nolan's ears as he pulled the trigger and the Assassin simultaneously vanished. As he tried to regain his wits, the loud ringing continued. Addled by the unprecedented noise, he wasn't sure if he'd flinched or not.   
  
What the hell is that?" Brother Rason gasped in shock as he yanked off the offending earpiece. He'd nearly wet himself in alarm and his eardrums were throbbing. Momentarily deaf from the aural assault, he grasped his aching head. For a moment, he wasn't sure if the renewed ringing was real or from auditory damage.  
  
**************************   
  
Ian had barely stepped into the moonlight when the ear-piercing peal of Gabriel's phone rattled him senseless once again. He felt a sharp sting of pain in his head as the shrill noise jolted him and he involuntarily vaulted from the dissonant and abrupt noise. Only his highly honed reflexes had narrowly prevented him from falling flat on his ass.   
  
He swore he was going to strangle that boy and whoever else was responsible for scaring the bejeezus out of him. Furiously, he yanked Gabriel's cell phone from his jacket and flipped the switch to vibrate. Why on earth the boy had the ringer turned up so high was beyond the assassin. He was surprised Gabriel wasn't deaf.   
  
Ignoring the lingering headache, Ian peered at the ID screen and reconsidered his oath. "Sara," he greeted.  
  
"Ian?" Sara gasped. Sara was relieved but confused. "Why do you have Gabriel's phone? Where is he? Is he okay?" she asked frantically.  
  
Ian was a little annoyed that she had not asked if he was okay. Of course, he was the one who answered the phone, so chances were that he was, but still. He glanced over at Gabriel, the exhausted young man was passed out on the floor. "He is here with me, he has just fallen asleep." the assassin placated, wondering how the Wielder's pet could have slept through the voluminous din of the ringing phone.  
  
"Where are you?" Sara pleaded nervously.  
  
"I'd rather not say. This call may be monitored," he replied.   
  
Sara was at wit's end. She really didn't have the patience for this crap at the moment. "Are you in a barn?" she demanded.  
  
Nottingham's eyebrows quirked at this query. Noting Sara's panic, he wondered if they must vacate immediately. "Yes, I was about to-" he began to reply.  
  
"Don't!" Sara interjected. "They're watching, they're going to shoot you if you leave the barn!" Sara insisted.  
  
"I see," the assassin stated. Placing a hand to the side of his head, he wondered if the headache was not from the blaring ring. Drawing a bloody hand away, he had his answer. "Do you know where they are?" he asked calmly, peering out into the night.   
  
"No, I - I don't, But they shoot you in front of the entrance, two big doors. It looks like a long-range rifle. I can't-" Sara spluttered.  
  
So, that's why he hadn't sensed them. The cowards were attempting to assassinate him from a safe distance. "Peasants!" Ian scowled.  
  
"Wha?" Sara breathed. She was desperately trying to sort through the information the vision had given her, trying to find something, anything, that would provide a clue as to how to get them out of this deadly situation. Ian's heated and odd response was not helping her with her plight.  
  
The assassin waited for Sara to continue, but after a few wheezes that sounded like the beginnings of hysterics, he decided to intervene. "Thank you for your..." - Being that the Sufult watching the barn were possibly listening as well, he chose his words carefully. - "...concern. I will do what I can," he replied coolly and clipped the phone shut before she could retort.   
  
Pocketing the phone, he pulled out his listening device and slowly swept the area. It was difficult to separate sounds, as the nocturnal animals were making their pre-dawn rounds. It did not help that Gabriel's phone was vibrating non-stop in his pocket.   
  
Rustling, sniffing, digging, skittering and an unbelievably loud cat in heat, assaulted his sensitive ears until he finally picked up a sound that did not sound native to the area.   
  
**************************   
  
"Did you get him?" Brother Rason queried.  
  
"I had a clear shot but... It's hard to say. Everything happened at once," Brother Nolan replied. The assassin had been barely out of the shadows when Nolan shot him. Whether he had made the hit and the assassin was lying dead within, or lying in wait for them to approach, he couldn't tell.   
  
Rason had gotten skittish about his earpiece and was refusing to put it back on. Brother Nolan didn't know what caused the shrill ring that possibly ruined his shot and left him in the dark, but he longed to strangle whoever was responsible for it. His own ears, though not as directly affected as Rason's, were still humming from the abrupt volume in an otherwise quiet environment.   
  
He had been left in a less than desirable position. If the assassin was alive, he could be waiting for them to approach to claim their prize, making them toast, basically. If he was dead, their intended captive could be making a break for it out of their line of view, using the enormous barn as cover. "Fuck," Nolan mumbled.  
  
  
**************************tbc  
  
a/n: Just a couple responses.   
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Earth/AKA Naughty muse Mistres - Hee! I Loved your response in the reviews! ^_^  
Um, er, sorry for denying you the owies in this chapter. I simply couldn't have Brother Nolan take the uber assassin down so easily, underhanded and unfair or no. But don't worry, Gabe isn't quite safe yet.  
  
Fae - Thank you! I dedcided to post this quickly, per your kind request. :) 


	26. misfortune

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
*Excuses and warnings*  
************************** denotes change of scenery  
*Swearing  
*Mention of blood  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 25  
*****************************************************  
  
After Ascertaining the location of the shooter, Nottingham realized he had no weapons capable of the range his assailant had attacked from. The other Sufult had only carried close range weapons, as did he. His targets needed to approach within range of the SMG in order for him to attack. However, the likelihood of them moving in to capture their prey without waiting for enforcements was slim. The long-range attack had been a cautious and calculated one. The shooter was obviously not risking his own life.   
  
Determining the only option left was to flee, he swiftly moved to where Gabriel was sprawled on the floor. He placed the young man's backpack in Gabriel's lap before gently scooping up the limp figure. Pondering the irony of the boy's inexplicably loud and annoying phone having actually saved his life, the assassin shifted Gabriel into what he assumed was a comfortable position before carrying him across the barn.   
  
As he squeezed through a tear in the wall at the far side of the building, careful not to come in view of the shooter, he felt Gabriel stir slightly. "Who called?" Gabriel murmured groggily against the assassin's shoulder. Despite the boy's semi coherent state, Ian was surprised that Gabriel didn't seem to have any issues with being carried. Due to his previous, petulant struggles and glares (when conscious), he had concluded the boy loathed the manner of transport.  
  
"You were awake?" Ian asked, while scoping the array of possible transportation. Had Gabriel been playing possum or was he just that weak? Getting no immediate response, he shook him slightly as he headed towards his chosen vehicle. The assassin had decided to go with the nearest SUV. Due to the rising gas prices, the recurring threat of a gas crisis and rising discontent in relations with the country's main supplier of the commodity, the gas guzzling vehicles were becoming extremely popular. Once back on the freeway, they would be lost in the herd of SUVs and be harder to pick out, he reasoned.  
  
"No," Gabriel mumbled in response to Ian's query, before passing out once more.   
  
It wasn't the answer Ian had expected. Either the boy was incoherent and had misunderstood the question or there was something he didn't know about. Or perhaps, he had been right about the boy being too weak to move. For some reason, Ian found his answer disquieting. He decided to ask him about it later. The assassin suspected that Gabriel might throw a fit if he found out he had missed Sara's call, and since they needed to escape as quickly and quietly, he decided to let the boy sleep.   
  
The doors of the abandoned vehicle had been left open. Nottingham remembered the armed Sufult bursting from the vehicle, eager to take him down as he systematically silenced them. He laid Gabriel in the back seat and performed a quick search for tracking devices. He regretted leaving his sweeping equipment in the makeshift cell/storage room of Gabriel's building, but there was nothing for it. He simply couldn't carry everything, nor could he predict the situation of hiding behind a barn while a sharp shooter lay in wait. Nottingham presumed his attacker had alerted his superiors to the situation and more Sufult would be arriving soon. His only hope was to outrun them.  
  
Throwing his collection of looted weapons in the passenger seat, the assassin jumped into the SUV and tore off across the shorn field. It was late summer and whatever crop had been here had already been harvested, leaving the ground bare, making it easier for travel, but providing no cover. He kept the path of the SUV at an angle that placed the barn between him and the Sufult until he was beyond the long range of the cowardly shooter's rifle.   
  
***********************************  
  
"Are we going in to seize Mr. Bowman?" Brother Rason asked as Brother Nolan gathered up his equipment and headed towards their car.  
  
Brother Nolan managed to suppress his urge to say; 'Are you insane?', and calmly replied; "No," as he began dialing his usual contact. *Fuck brother Pedious,* he thought. The idiot had no idea what they were up against.  
  
"Report," Consul Damak's attendant greeted.  
  
Brother Nolan was surprised Consul Damak had not answered but then remembered the hour. The Consul was most likely asleep. "The ambush has failed, I need agents to assist," he stated.  
  
"The assassin has escaped with our target?" The attendant queried.  
  
"May I speak with Consul Damak?" Brother Nolan asked irritably. He had no intention of trying to explain the situation to the Consul's powerless aide, nor of walking into a trap. If the hierarchy wanted a sacrifice for its goals, it would not be him. The next chain of command would be Banol and he definitely did NOT want to take orders from the aggressive Magistrate or his sadistic attendant, Brother Pedious. He knew either one would suggest he stupidly approach the barn, just to allay or confirm their doubts. At least the Consul was circumspect in his thinking and valued Nolan's skills.  
  
"Hold on," the evidently affronted attendant grunted.  
  
As Brother Nolan and his comrade reached the Nova, Consul Damak picked up the phone. "What is happening, Brother Nolan?" he inquired. They had lost contact with another batch of trained men and he was not anxious to hear Nolan's reply. A part of him wanted revenge on the assassin and his boss dearly.  
  
"The ambush failed. The target and his protector fled to a nearby barn, where Nottingham managed to decimate the entire unit," Nolan stated gravely. Receiving no comment from The Consul, he deduced this was not a surprise to his leader. "Brother Rason and myself have monitored the situation per your request. I managed to get a clear shot of Iron's assassin, however, there was an interruption during the hit," Nolan relayed.  
  
"So, what are you saying, Brother Nolan?" Damak demanded. "Is he taken care of or not?"  
  
"I may or may not have killed him. However," Nolan stated. "I am NOT approaching the barn and request assistance. Brother Rason and myself are readying for covert pursuit," he reported. He could faintly hear The Prime Consul ordering a scout to call reinforcements to the area when something caught his attention.  
  
The roar of an engine starting, carried across the night air. "He's leaving," reported Brother Nolan abruptly, while signaling Rason to follow.   
  
"Who's leaving?" Consul Damak queried anxiously.   
  
"I can't tell, they are not in view yet," Nolan replied. As he listened to the hum of the vehicle fade into the distance without catching a glimpse, he realized the driver was still taking advantage of the cover of the barn. He decided the assassin must be alive and knew where he and Brother Rason were. How else would he know to exit from the angle he had.   
  
He knew the Bowman kid was smart, but the young businessman wouldn't have the skills to determine their location and choose the one direction of fleeing where they would not be able to see the vehicle. It had to be the assassin behind the wheel.   
  
Nolan was suppressing another expletive when Brother Rason pointed excitedly at the homing screen on the dashboard. "He's taking one of our vehicles! Look, a blip is moving," Brother Rason declared.  
  
Glancing at the screen, Nolan smiled as Rason's statement was confirmed. One of the vehicles was indeed departing from the pack of widowed Sufult automobiles. "So, our consummate assassin has finally made a mistake," Brother Nolan purred with a satisfied smile.  
  
**************************tbc  
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a/n: I hope no one minds my a/n babbles. It's just simply the easiest way to give thanks and respond to the cool people who write responses to the story.   
  
When writing a/n's, I'm a bit distanced from the story. So the tone has no bearing on what just happened or what will. Honestly, after all the final touches and mandatory but completely understandable disclaimers, I'm exhausted and a bit relieved to have the chapter ready to be sent out so that I can fully concentrate on the next. This is my little reprieve. Oh, and sorry for another G & I deluge. I'm still tinkering with the Sara & Jake end.  
  
Roguegal - Yup, brother Nolan does have quite the pottymouth. I actually have issues with saying the f-word, so I don't know what's up with that. Guy came with his own personality from the beginning. I hope writing doesn't lead to multiple personalities.   
  
Beck - Hee! love it! Especially Ian giving the 'V' with a wide grin. That mental image is priceless.  
  
LaFemme - Ya, a bit injured, he is. I, um, will address that later.  
  
Fae - Glad you liked it! :) The muses seem to have let up on him for the moment.  
  
Dragongrrl - Hi! Unfortunately another hanger of sorts. Sorry. Work is taking up much of my time, making it difficult to write long chapters.   
  
Earth - You described a less vocal version of my diabolical cat and I am 'afeared'. Sorry again for the lack of owies. Looks like he got practically cuddled instead. Weird. I have an agends but the muses apparently have their own, they seem to be dragging this out just to piss me off. 


	27. in motion

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 26  
****************************************************************  
  
Gabriel was vaguely aware of being in the back seat of a vehicle. The small jolts reminded him of being driven down a dirt road on a childhood vacation, distorted in his dreams to a wide field of mown barley.   
  
"Mom, slow down," Gabriel murmured, caught in the half world of dreams and reality.  
  
"I am not your Mother," Ian retorted, embarrassed by the boy addressing him as such and insulted at the same time.  
  
"The right, watch ou..." Gabriel sighed into the seat.  
  
Nottingham instinctively glanced to the right, swerving the vehicle just in the nick of time to avoid a startled doe.   
  
Ian did not bother contemplating the incongruity of Gabriel's warning being coincidental nor how someone delirious enough to call the formidable assassin 'mom', could sense the animal's approach with his face wedged in the crease of the back seat. The young man's semi coherent statements were often baffling.  
  
Instead, he pondered the admissible implications regarding the trajectory of the sprinting deer. The doe had been running towards the noise of the vehicle, rather than away, meaning that it had been running from something else. The Sufult must be on the move.  
  
Though he could neither see nor hear their vehicle over the din of his own automobile, he had concluded that the insidious saboteurs were coming down the road to his right. When his commandeered SUV left the rural terrain of the field and met a gravel path, Nottingham turned left, thankful that by luck his only safe exit also provided him with the advantage of gaining purchase to the highway before his pursuers.   
  
****  
  
Sara's jabs at the redial button had gone from frantic to hostile by the time Jake hobbled around the corner to where she'd fled. Nottingham's callous brush off, amidst her anxiety, was making her more furious with every tremulous moment of panic and fear. She had no way of knowing if Ian was shot or was not answering the phone on purpose, just to piss her off.   
  
"Thanks for your concern," Sara snarled sarcastically at the phone, echoing Nottingham's ridiculous reply as she tested the button's tolerance for abuse.   
  
"And yours," Jake quipped.  
  
Sara looked up to find Jake standing in front of her. Judging by his expression and the tone of his comment, he was more than a little annoyed. Danny's sudden appearance somehow didn't help alleviate her discomfort. Standing beside Jake and eyeing her with a worried gaze, her ethereal friend pointed at Sara's impotent and defenseless cell phone.   
  
"You might want to give that button a rest and tend to your partner," Danny advised, before leaving her to deal with the angry Rookie.  
  
Sara cast her gaze to the floor in chagrin. Danny was on the mark as usual; Jake had every right to be ticked off. "How's your knee?" Sara queried guiltily, giving the redial button a reprieve as she pocketed her phone.   
  
"A little banged up, but nothing serious," Jake replied cagily. Having gotten one full sentence out, he decided to try for another. "Doc says I shouldn't need the cane after a few days," he added optimistically. It wasn't really what he wanted to talk about, but at least she had let him finish his sentences.  
  
'That's, ... good to hear," Sara replied cautiously, still not looking him in the eye. She knew he was dying to either interrogate or berate her. Not in the mood for either, she tried to keep the topic focused on his injury, hoping a little coddling would pacify him. "Let me get you home so you can get some rest. I'll take care of the paperwork on the explosion," Sara suggested, grabbing his shoulder and trying to hustle her partner to the nearest exit.  
  
Resisting her impatient tugs, Jake turned to face his erratic partner. "I don't think that's a good idea, Pez," he admonished. "I think you're the one who should go home and get some rest. My knee won't effect getting paperwork done and at least I have a clear head," he asserted. The tone he used left no doubt as to what he thought about the state of her head.  
  
Smarting from the verbal slap, Sara had to admit her conduct would appear far from sage. Acknowledging Jake with a look of horror and darting away to torment a phone with no one on the other end would seem a bit rude, if not outright loony.   
  
"Um, you're right. I've been... I probably need some sleep," Sara admitted. She had the urge to make up an excuse for her actions, but had a feeling it would only make matters worse, opting instead for an apologetic smile that ended up looking more like a scary grimace.  
  
Relieved that his partner had seemingly come to her senses, Jake allowed Sara to escort him out. He had taken care of the medical paperwork while she had apparently been siccing hospital security on an alleged pervert and staring off into space while holding some plastic, cartoon Valkyrie necklace. "You okay to drive?" Jake asked as they headed for the police car. He wasn't sure about letting her behind the wheel after her antics, but because of his knee, he knew he couldn't operate it at all.  
  
"Yeah, I can handle it," Sara assured him. Reprehensibly, she wished they had given Jake some painkillers or some other mind-numbing substance to delay the impending inquisition that she could not honestly answer. Admitting to her partner that an ancient amulet of great power had given her a vision of the deaths of two men who were entwined in her life for reasons she was unclear on, would have him suggesting she drive from one hospital to another. The other hospital being host to men offering jackets with straps and buckles.   
  
After helping Jake into the passenger seat, Sara stalked to the driver's side. She could tell by her partner's studied silence that he was gearing up for the mother of all shake downs. The mental institute was beginning to look appealing.  
  
******************  
Once they were trapped inside the moving vehicle, Jake decided to begin the interrogation. "So, what's up with you kissing that guy?" he inquired, trying to sound casual.  
  
"What?" Sara yelped in shock, involuntarily stomping on the gas and nearly rear-ending the car ahead of them. She expected him to grill her but not make things up. Oh god, had that pervert at the hospital been making out with her while she was unconscious? This thought made her so queasy and disgusted that she accidentally let her foot slip off the gas, nearly getting 'them' rear-ended.  
  
Jake's heart had leapt from his stomach to his throat at the second near-accident and he was beginning to question his decision to let Sara drive. Despite the fact that his partner was using harsh scare tactics to avoid answering his questions, he was determined to push the subject. He knew the guy was a friend of hers but he wondered what was actually going on between the two and if he was somehow connected to the explosion. "The guy in your apartment, your friend. I saw you kiss him," he persisted and braced himself for a crash. Surprisingly, this statement seemed to calm her.  
  
"Oh, Gabriel," Sara sighed, wondering where he was going with this line of questioning. "He's just a friend," she added, lest Jake get the wrong impression. Nottingham had certainly let his imagination run when it came to the guy. She didn't need Jake getting uppity as well.   
  
Relieved at Sara's lack of retaliation, Jake pursued the subject. "You seemed pretty affectionate for just a friend. His last name's Bowman right?" he asserted. The guy's unusual first name would make the task easy. He was also curious about Mr. Bowman's seeming bodyguard, but decided to take the inquiry one step at a time.  
  
Any feelings of shame she had for her previous behavior towards her partner flew out the window at Jake's obvious scheme. "You wanna run my friend just because I gave him a peck on the cheek?" Sara snapped. The idea of her partner trying to pick up dirt on Gabriel, who was in danger of being tortured and killed, made her furious. That she was stuck driving around quibbling with her ninnyhead partner instead of focusing on rescuing her friend only fueled her ire.   
  
"No, I was just-" Jake started to evade, but his attention was suddenly gripped by the surrounding traffic as his partner escalated her driving threats.  
  
"Just what, Jake?" Sara barked, daring him to admit his intentions.   
  
"I'm just worried about you, Pez. I don't want you getting involved with the wrong crowd," Jake protested. Even as he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Luckily, they had arrived at the precinct and the hair-raising trip was over. Or so he thought.  
  
Slamming on the brakes at her partner's presumptive statement, Sara nearly sent Jake through the windshield after he prematurely removed his seatbelt. "Wrong crowd?!" she huffed. "When in the hell did an artifact dealer become the wrong crowd?" Sara demanded.  
  
"He's an artifact dealer?" Jake mused, rubbing his smarting forehead. (Rushing to get out of the car had not been a good call). He actually knew next to nothing about Gabriel, other than that he was a friend of Saras. "I'm just saying... If he's gotten you into some kind of trouble, I'd like to know about it," he clarified.  
  
"If anything, it's the other way around," Sara stated. Her tone of finality brooked no dispute.  
  
"What do you mean?" Jake queried. "We're the one's who nearly got blown to smithereens," he argued.  
  
"Meaning someone is probably out to get me," Sara pointed out. "I doubt Gabriel has ever had any real enemies and since I'm a cop, I do," she stated errantly. Being the Wielder was the real problem, but being a cop fit the bill for the moment. "They could be going after him and I have no idea where he is," Sara complained.  
  
"So why would anyone go after him?" Jake prodded. He still didn't have a clue as to why Sara seemed so protective of the guy. He also wondered why his partner seemed convinced that someone was out to get her.  
  
"Gee Rookie, maybe because he's my best friend and unlike me, completely unarmed," Sara snarled. If she lost the last person she completely trusted, she didn't know what she's do. Sara was grateful that Nottingham had been assigned to protect Gabriel, but this was also the guy who had cut his throat... twice.   
  
"Do you have any idea who's after you?" Jake inquired, a bit miffed that his partner didn't consider him her best friend but glad he was finally getting somewhere with his inquiry.   
  
"I don't have any names, if that's what you're looking for. I only know that they seem to have enough info on me to send a fake call to you," Sara stated. She wished she could tell him more, but the little else that she knew would involve the Blade.   
  
"Maybe you should stick with me. Just in case they try to pull something else," Jake offered. He still felt she was hiding something from him. Her certainty that she was the target and her immediate assumption that the Bowman guy was in danger didn't add up.  
  
"No, Jake. I need to get some sleep, like you said. I can take care of myself," Sara stated, reaching into the back seat and handing Jake his cane. What she really needed was to contact Gabriel and Ian. Much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't imagine life without either one. Especially-   
  
Realizing Sara was trying to get rid of him, Jake decided to bring up the object that seemed to trigger her frantic phone emergency. "What's the deal with that necklace you were holding?" Jake pried, hoping to get some kind of clue before his partner chucked him out of the car.   
  
His query was met with an unexpected glare.  
  
"It just doesn't seem your style, is all," Jake added, hoping his calculated, breezy tone would ease the tension.   
  
"It was a gift," Sara stated evenly.  
  
Noting his partner's partially bared teeth, he decided breezy fashion statements weren't going to do the trick. "Okay, fine," Jake muttered, carefully removing himself and his cane from the currently benign vehicle. As he hobbled into the precinct, he decided to see if he could find anything on Bowman before filing a report on the explosion.   
  
"Somebody's cranky," Danny stated from the passenger seat Jake had just vacated.  
  
Sara sighed and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. "Can you honestly blame me, Danny?" Sara rejoined tiredly. Danny's silence made her wonder if he had disappeared again. Turning her head slightly, she regarded his sympathetic expression with a mixture of relief and worry. "Are they- Why won't he answer?" she pleaded.  
  
"Maybe he was busy," her spectral friend suggested. "It's hard to carry on a decent conversation if you're trying to avoid being shot at," Danny rationed.  
  
"So they're safe?" Sara blurted anxiously. Sadly, Danny's noncommittal expression only seemed to revive her distress. "Dammit, Danny, can't you tell me anything?" she demanded.  
  
"I'm a dead man, Sara, not a Ouji board," Danny answered solemnly. "But I can tell you they are not in my realm," he assured before negating Sara's sudden optimism by adding; "... yet, anyway." With that, the ghost blinked out of view, leaving a very distressed detective to her own devices.   
  
.  
****tbc 


	28. snatched

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. The Sufult, Tome, Key, towel and a toothbrush are mine.   
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 27  
*****************************************  
  
The SUV was racing smoothly along the sparsely populated highway as dawn began to breathe a faint blush into the eastern sky. The sleeping figure sprawled in the back seat of the vehicle was rocked slightly as the assassin changed lanes, shifting his dreams.   
  
The subconscious landscape slowly darkened as he felt his unprotected body being propelled, swiftly hurtling towards a quagmire of metal, mire and sharp edges. Something about the speed was pushing him awake. With a jolt, Gabriel breached consciousness. "Where are we?" he gasped.  
  
Startled by his charge's abrupt awakening, the assassin flicked his gaze to the mirror as a wide-eyed, dark haired head popped into view. "It is no matter. Sleep," Nottingham commanded. Gabriel still didn't look as healthy as he had at the start of the evening, which was now fading into dawn, but a hint of color had returned to his cheeks. Relieved that Gabriel's little naps were helping him recover from exhaustion and blood loss, he began to hope that Sara would not find out about the bullet.   
  
Ian had reached the highway without hazard and was watching for tails. The fact that he hadn't spotted anyone following should have relieved him, but instead, he was suspicious. After the incident with the doe, he was positive the sniper was tailing them. Yet strangely, even with his keen eyesight, he hadn't managed to spot the vehicle.  
  
Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Gabriel had not obeyed him. He was about to reprimand him when he noticed the look of horror and confusion in the young man's reflection.  
  
"What happened to your head?" Gabriel blurted. There was a raze of dark red, coating the tidily tied dark locks and streaks of dried blood around the assassin's ear. He hadn't seen the wound the last time he was conscious and was wondering what had transpired while he'd slept.   
  
"It is just a graze," Nottingham replied blandly. Fortunately, the bullet had not pierced his cranium. Hoping Gabriel would let the subject drop at that, he warily eyed the practically non-existent traffic, not thrilled with the idea of relaying that both the shooter and Gabriel's phone had gotten the drop on him simultaneously.   
  
Gabriel was perplexed. The last thing he remembered coherently was that Nottingham had left to get a vehicle. Being that the assassin had returned his attention to the road, it was apparent that Nottingham considered the subject closed but Gabriel decided to press the issue anyway. "How did it happen?" he insisted, readying himself for the tetchy man's rebuke.  
  
Nottingham shot a warning look to the visage in the rearview mirror, only to receive Gabriel's quintessential innocent look. Neath the angelic scrutiny of the aggravating boy, the assassin sullenly yielded. "It involved your cacophonous cell phone and a cowardly sniper," he admitted. "Suffice it to say, I was expecting neither," he added grudgingly.  
  
"Oh... ," Gabriel whispered, immediately dropping his gaze to the floor. That his phone had gotten the assassin shot was not good. He didn't want to even guess what sadistic revenge the vicious assassin had unleashed on him while he was unconscious or planned on extracting from him later. His legs felt fine, so he was betting on the later theory. "Who called?" Gabriel inquired timidly, switching the topic to something less distressing before his hyperactive mind had a chance to fill the uncomfortable silence with images of his impending retribution.   
  
Although Gabriel's penitent demeanor puzzled Ian; he wasn't surprised when the young man's phone hummed on cue. Without replying to Gabriel's query or examining the screen, Ian simply removed the object from his coat and chucked it at the boy. It had been a long night, and although he was grateful for Lady Sara saving his life, he knew from her previous redial extravaganza, that the thing would vibrate relentlessly until he answered. He also expected a berating for his earlier brusque response and refusal to answer the rabidly vibrating instrument.  
  
A faint grunt from Gabriel assured the assassin that he had hit some part of the boy's anatomy, and after a slight pause and a click, the anticipated vociferous lambaste resonated throughout the vehicle.   
  
"It's about time you answered the damn phone, you Ass!" Sara roared.  
  
Ian smirked as he glimpsed Gabriel's pained face while the boy rubbed his ear. Despite his often unruly and unpredictable behavior, his charge could be quite entertaining at times.  
  
"Easy, chief. I just woke up," Gabriel mollified, holding the earpiece at a safe distance.  
  
The assassin caught Sara's sigh of relief and dearly hoped Gabriel would continue to pacify rather than say anything to rile her. He was usually thrilled by her passionate outbursts, but only when he was in complete control of the situation. At the moment, he felt something was off and he needed to concentrate.  
  
"So what's up, Detective, how did the homicide go?" Gabriel queried.   
  
Again, Ian was thrown by Gabriel's penchant for acting completely oblivious to his own situation. Hearing his chirpy and casual greeting, one would think the assassin was driving him to the market for some groceries, rather than escaping to a hideout to possibly face off with a tenacious cult, bent on the boy's capture.  
  
"It was a trap," Sara divulged, relieved to speak openly to someone who would not only understand and accept her blade-induced dilemma, but also sympathize. Her parley with Jake had strained her nerves.   
  
"What?! Are you okay?" Gabriel fretted, oblivious to Nottingham's suddenly rapt attention.  
  
Ian was shocked and incensed. How dare the insufferable dogs assail the Wielder. The reason behind the unease he'd felt over her safety while at the gas station was now clear and he was mortified that he was protecting her little friend while Sara had been in danger.  
  
"I'm fine but Jake got a little battered," Sara responded. She was curious as to why Gabriel and not Ian had answered the phone this time.   
  
"What happened?" Gabriel plied. He was a bit pissed off that the 'seemingly all knowing' assassin had let Sara walk into a trap. A quick glance to the assassin's reflection, however, revealed that Nottingham was distressed as well.   
  
"Someone rigged the body with a bomb, probably our Sufult buddies," Sara relayed tersely. She was beginning to get impatient. Gabriel was focusing the conversation on her situation, rather than what she really needed to know. "What about you, Gabriel, are you okay? Is Nottingham with you? I had some pretty terrifying visions and the last time you sounded this blithely perky over the phone, you were bound and wearing a dog collar," Sara commented.   
  
Gabriel flinched at the mention of the embarrassing collar. "I'm fine, he's driving and thank you oh, so much for bringing up the collar, detective," Gabriel replied irritably. He had no intentions of letting Sara know that he felt completely helpless, lost and apprehensive about Nottingham breaking his legs for unintentionally getting him shot if the Sufult didn't manage to capture and torture him first.   
  
"Driving where? Is he okay?" Sara uttered, hopefully without sounding too concerned over the antagonistic assassin. Even though Gabriel would probably only raise an eyebrow, she knew Nottingham would have a field day.  
  
"Um, he... ". Struck with another pang of guilt and dread, Gabriel instinctively glanced to the suddenly expressionless assassin. "He got shot in the head," Gabriel mumbled quietly.  
  
"What?" Sara gasped, distraught and confused. Hadn't Gabriel just said he was driving? Had her mind made it up to alleviate her fears or had Gabriel joined the cryptic club that seemed bound for the afterlife? Was 'driving' some bizarre term for soaring through the heavens? Her throat emitted a childish whimper without her consent.   
  
"But he said it's just a graze," Gabriel quickly added, suddenly realizing how dire his statement sounded. He'd been warily observing Nottingham's reactions in the mirror and noticed the assassin seemed rather surprised at Sara's squeaky exclamation yet remarkably nonchalant about the bullet incident.  
  
"Thank God," Sara sighed in relief. After recovering from her little fit, however, she came to the conclusion that the man must have completely ignored her warning. Like a charm, her temper returned. "How did it happen?" the detective snapped testily.   
  
Both Ian and Gabriel were thrown by the Wielder's abrupt change in tone.   
  
"I was asleep, so I'm not sure what exactly happened, but I guess it involved my phone," Gabriel relayed. He wasn't thrilled about addressing the touchy subject and Nottingham's lack of retaliation or reaction confused him. Considering the man had practically choked him for eating too slow while unconscious, it seemed odd for Nottingham to disregard the fact that he'd nearly gotten him killed.   
  
The assassin knitted his brows in vexation. Lady Sara's violent mood swings were inscrutable and Gabriel's odd proclivities seemed to be multiplying. The young man had subtly migrated to the opposite side of the vehicle during the phone conversation and Ian wondered what was going on in the young man's head.   
  
The Wielder's fiery temper was doused by confusion, brought about by Gabriel's nonsensical explanation. "Your phone," Sara repeated for lack of anything better to say. Her mind was drawing a blank on how his phone could be involved.  
  
"Yeah," Gabriel sighed despondently.  
  
Exasperated by the escalating bizarreness of their conversation, Nottingham swiftly lunged over and snatched the phone from Gabriel, eliciting a cry of alarm from the boy in the process.   
  
The Sufult's erratic stratagems had put him on edge. If they weren't tailing him, he suspected they might be taking a more direct route to acquiring the Blade. "Sara, are you safe?" the assassin inquired with concern.   
  
Sara took a quick evaluation of the precinct parking lot. It was pretty quiet. A couple officers had pulled in, but nothing seemed suspicious. "Yeah," she replied. She was about to tell him where she was but then remembered his caution about phones being monitored, negating her intended query on where they were. "Are you?" she asked instead.  
  
Nottingham paused in thought. He honestly didn't know. Their SUV did blend with traffic as he had hoped and he'd seen no sign of being followed since they'd approached the highway, yet it seemed too easy. After the tenacity of the Sufult's pursuit, it appeared as if the sect had just suddenly given up. Something wasn't right. "I am not sure," Ian replied bluntly. His greater concern was Sara's safety.   
  
"What do you mean? Should I-" Sara fretted.   
  
"I will call you once we arrive at our destination. Until then, stay away from your apartment and the precinct," Nottingham advised.  
  
*Oops,* Sara winced, turning the ignition.  
  
"The Sufult can hide in plain sight and have many resources, Sara. They are like flies, seemingly innocuous and scattered everywhere, unnoticeable until they swarm. Be wary, my Lady," he cautioned before disconnecting.  
  
********************  
  
Sara pulled out of the 11th as Nottingham hung up, kicking herself for not realizing that the precinct was one of the locations the Sufult would know to look for her. She had instinctually headed towards Gabriel's flat until it dawned on her that Talismanic was also on the 'places to avoid' list, not to mention the fact that he wasn't there. Sara was stumped; anyone else she knew would not appreciate her showing up on their doorstep at the crack of dawn.  
  
The detective decided she needed to spend less time fighting evil and more time making friends with nocturnal tolerant people who didn't pry into her personal/Wielder life-style or mind her trances and unpredictable behavior.   
  
Briefly, she considered placing a personal ad - 'Homicide detective seeking friendship with personable, acquiescent, dependable person who enjoys brief and often untimely, unconventional conversations with no expectations or questions asked. No megalomaniacs (That means you, Kenny). She considered adding; no freaks, but realized anyone reading the ad would think she was one herself. Honestly, it sounded like something Hannibal Lector would place. Maybe she should leave out the 'homicide detective' part.  
  
********************  
  
Nottingham pocketed the phone and was just about to ask Gabriel why he was behaving as if his road companion had suddenly turned into a leper, when the boy spoke up.  
  
"When is the next rest area?" Gabriel queried, a bit affronted when his implied request was met with a patronizing eyeroll from the assassin.   
  
"Can't it wait?" Ian groused.  
  
"No," Gabriel replied adamantly.  
  
"Why didn't you go before we left?" the assassin demanded.   
  
Gabriel struggled to not simply gape at the man. He swore he hadn't had this argument since he was a child. "Before I left my apartment ten hours ago?" Gabriel retorted. "I did, by the way," he added. "Since then, I have been stalked; abducted; strangled to unconsciousness; had my throat cut; attacked in the tub; dragged out of bed to be wrestled onto a motorcycle; awoken in a gas station to be force fed and shot at -  
  
"I get the picture," the assassin growled. It actually would be a good idea to stop and do a thorough search for homing devices before they reached his hideout. If the Sufult were indeed tracking him, leading them straight there could induce a bloodbath he'd rather avoid. Considering their fanaticism and the hordes he'd already taken out, Nottingham guessed they would not relent until he was slain. Albiet, with the number of members he'd massacred, it wouldn't be infeasible if they would do so just for the sake of revenge.  
  
Ian decided to pull off the highway at the next exit. Although there was a plethora of travel-stop establishments, very few were open at the early hour. Stopping at a 7-eleven, he pulled a face when Gabriel darted from the SUV and into the store without his consent.  
  
Emerging from the store with key in tow, Gabriel nearly ran into the instant black wall of assassin. "What?" he squeaked impatiently.  
  
"You cannot just scamper about like a rabbit, I am still in charge of your safety," Ian scolded.   
  
"I gotta take a piss, Nottingham. Going to the bathroom is not scampering about," Gabriel retorted irritably. The caffeine in his system was making the matter urgent, punishment or no he had to go. He veered around the assassin and headed for the lavatory in back of the building. He was halfway there when he glanced back to find Nottingham looming over his shoulder. Needless to say, his surprise at the man's proximity tested his already urgent bladder. "Jesus, Nottingham! What the hell are you doing?" Gabriel exclaimed.  
  
"My job," Ian replied testily.  
  
"No, no way. You are not coming into the bathroom with me," Gabriel protested. He was not in the least bit comfortable about having to address the call of nature in front of the assassin.   
  
Ian was not in the mood for another battle of wills. Arguing with the boy would only waste time and forcing him to take care of his business after hauling him to the men's room would also be a pain. Deciding that it would be ridiculous for the Sufult to be lying in wait at a random 7-eleven restroom, he relented. "Just be quick and don't wander off," Nottingham ordered before heading back to perform a thorough search for homing devices on the SUV.  
  
With a sigh of relief, Gabriel entered the sparse washroom and immediately locked the door. He didn't need the invasive assassin changing his mind and barging in on him mid-stream. After attending to the urgent matter, Gabriel was in the process of washing up when his presumptions about the assassin's erratic behavior appeared to be proven true. The supposedly locked door swung open and morning light flooded the small room, casting a tall shadow against the wall in front of him.   
  
*He could have just waited outside or at least knocked,* Gabriel thought peevishly as he finished drying his hands. His indignation at Nottingham's rudeness, however, suddenly turned to alarm when he was violently grabbed from behind.   
  
The taller man wrenched Gabriel's head backwards into his shoulder as he rammed a cloth into the boy's mouth, stifling his terrified protests.  
  
A faintly sweet vapor began to permeate Gabriel's mouth and air passages. Panic stricken, he clawed desperately at the man's wrist as waves of dizziness and fatigue washed over him. Fighting the increasing heaviness of his limbs, he managed a few weak kicks to the man's shins before succumbing to the drug induced palsy. As darkness bled into the reeling edges of his consciousness, Gabriel raised his unsteady gaze to his assailant's face in despair.   
  
The stranger staring intently into his wide and frightened eyes with a mixture of satisfaction and pity was the last thing Gabriel saw before his world went black.   
  
**************tbc 


	29. jacta est alea

The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 28  
*****************************************  
Ian carefully checked the undercarriage of the vehicle, but found nothing. Traffic in the area had begun to thicken as he was performing his search. Managers and employees, arriving for the daily grind of serving the populace weak coffee and mass produced fried goods, began to populate the lots around the various establishments.   
  
Moving his search to the inside of the vehicle, Nottingham again, bemoaned his lack of sweeping equipment. Manually searching for devices was painstaking and time-consuming. If the vehicle did contain a homing device, it could be hidden anywhere; wedged between seats, in an ashtray, under the carpet... The assassin sighed in exasperation and wondered what was taking the boy so long in the lavatory. Remembering Gabriel's offense at the assassin getting him sticky, he surmised the young man was probably trying to get the latte splotches out of his shirt.  
  
******************  
  
Satisfied that his prey had been subdued, Brother Nolan removed the cloth from Gabriel's mouth. Clutching his somnolent prize he stepped outside as Brother Rason pulled the car forward to meet him. Deftly sliding himself and Gabriel into the back seat, Nolan pulled the car door shut as Brother Rason accelerated.  
  
"Keep going and don't speed, any abnormal acceleration could alert the assassin," Nolan instructed quietly. The burgeoning activity in the area provided them the much needed cover to get away without being noticed. He didn't need Rason panicking and drawing the perceptive assassin's unwanted attention. Keeping himself below the line of vision until the car reached the expressway, Nolan occupied himself by checking Gabriel's mouth for irritation. It was a bit drastic to be so aggressive with chloroform, but he couldn't afford to take any chances with the assassin nearby. The young man's throat would probably be a little sore, but as far as he could tell, the liquid hadn't soaked through enough to damage their acquisition's delicate tissue.  
  
As they accessed the expressway, Brother Rason dared to speak. "Should I Alert Prime Consul about our success?" Rason queried. He had followed as ordered, just out of sight of the SUV, relying on the radar blips to go in the right direction. Brother Nolan's approach to the young man's capture had seemed lackadaisical at first and not having backup seemed risky, but now that they'd pulled it off, he longed to be within the familiar confines of rules and regulations. He was also happy that they had achieved success where all the others had failed and was looking forward to approval.  
  
"Sure," Nolan answered. While Brother Rason informed their superiors of the conquest, Brother Nolan flipped Gabriel over and pulled the young man's pliant arms behind his back. Binding his wrists with the ever-present cord that all miscreant's carried, Nolan wondered if he shouldn't tether his legs as well. The boy's kicks, though weakened by the drug, were well placed and his shins were still smarting.  
  
Deciding against it, he slid a black hood over Gabriel's head and tucked him into the seat before settling back for what he hoped to be a fairly short and uneventful ride.   
  
******************  
  
After a ridiculously thorough search, barring dismemberment of the seats, Ian was about to consider the SUV free of homing devices when he noticed an odd seam in the back end of the vehicle. Removing the Sufult's equipment he found a small indent and pried the panel open, revealing a narrow compartment. Inside, underneath an aging crossword puzzle, a faint blinking light identified the object that he had feared. Immediately alarmed at the device's portent, Nottingham raced to the lavatory to grab Gabriel.   
  
Bursting inside the room, his sense of smell picked up the faint traces of chloroform still lingering in the small enclosure. Gabriel was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Dashing out of the room, the assassin quickly scanned the area. The entire setup of his surroundings was working against him. The asphalt lot and roads left no possibility of finding tracks and the increasing activity in the area made it impossible to check every vehicle.   
  
Nottingham was beside himself. They had snatched Gabriel from right under his nose. This is not happening, I am all knowing, ran through his head before reality gained sway. He was going to strangle Gabriel for his ridiculous modesty. If the reckless little scamp had just- His mental rant was interrupted by the humming in his pockets. As if to further ruin his sense of control, his and Gabriel's phones rung at the same time. Irons and Sara were both calling.  
******************  
  
Gabriel awoke to darkness, there was cloth touching his face and his bound wrists ached. While noting that he was in a vehicle, he also suddenly realized there was something on his neck. His rising indignation at being leashed again was halted when the pressure shifted and he discerned it was a hand.  
  
"Don't bother struggling against the ropes. Your wrists are already chaffed and it will only make them bleed," Brother Nolan stated blandly when he felt the boy's pulse quicken beneath his fingers.  
  
The hand moved to Gabriel's cranium and although it's pressure remained slight, Gabriel suspected it would increase if he tried to sit up or move. He wished this wasn't the case, as the car they were in was obviously smaller than the SUV and he felt awkward, crammed against the stranger. He was surprised he wasn't gagged, but supposed since he couldn't see anything, they were going with the 'towel over the birdcage' method of silencing him. It was working pretty well.   
  
Too uneasy to blindly address the man, Gabriel tried to furtively disentangle his leg from an object that was pressing into it painfully, only to receive a sharp rap on his thigh.  
  
"Stay still," Nolan ordered. He had suspected the young man was troublesome but didn't expect him to try something so soon.  
  
As his leg was in an even more painful position than before, Gabriel decided to risk speaking. "It... hurts," he choked out.  
  
Nolan eyed the angle of his hostage's leg and had to admit it did look painful. Considering what his captive had already endured at the hands of the assassin and his impending session with the Sect, he decided to humor Mr. Bowman. Without saying a word, Brother Nolan Grasped Gabriel about the waist and chest and pulled him onto his lap to free the captive's legs, accidentally bumping Gabriel's head into the side of the vehicle in the process.  
  
Brother Rason heard the commotion in the back and glanced into the rearview mirror just in time to see Brother Nolan manhandling their booty. "We're not supposed to play with him," Rason blurted without thinking, receiving an irately shocked expression from Brother Nolan in return.  
  
"Play with him?" Nolan rejoined derisively. "You think I'm playing with him?" He challenged.  
  
His venomous tone sent shivers down Brother Rason's spine and Rason backed down immediately. "No, I just- I'm sorry, Brother Pedious..." he trailed off. Nolan had rolled his eyes at the man's mention.  
  
Brother Nolan wanted to state that Pedious was a sick and sadistic bastard that had only gained position by murky favors, but wisely chose to stay silent on the matter. "I am not playing with him, Rason. I am attempting to make him remotely comfortable," Nolan stated, peeved at Rason's assumption.  
  
In the midst of the parley, Gabriel hung in his captor's grip, deeply disturbed that the Sect would even address the notion of 'playing with him'.   
******************  
  
Ian stared at both phones in dismay, not thrilled to receive either volatile berating for failing to avoid the bleak development. Deciding that Irons would possibly order him to claim his own life for his failure and therefore save him from enduring Lady Sara's unbearable ire, he answered his phone while pocketing Gabriel's.  
  
"Well, Ian, nice of you to keep me waiting," Irons snipped.  
  
"I apologize, my news is dire," Ian somberly confessed. Since Irons was peevish over his servant not answering on the first ring, he was dreading his reaction to the actual news.  
  
"So the Sufult have captured the boy," Irons stated breezily.  
  
"Yes," the assassin replied, a bit taken aback by Irons' guess and unexpected tone.  
  
"I imagined they would," Kenneth stated confidently. "Giving up really isn't their style," he coolly added.  
  
"How shall I proceed?" Ian asked abjectly. Internally, he wished Iron's had let him in on his theory. He could have just given Bowman to the Sect and saved himself a shot in the head.  
  
"Return to the estate. I will give you your orders once you arrive," Irons clipped and immediately disconnected.  
  
******************  
  
The Wielder was tired of driving around aimlessly. With too many worries and the blade roiling ominously on her wrist, yet not giving her any visions or insight, Sara felt the need to kick some ass.   
  
Deciding that the subway system usually housed thugs and other ruffians that could use a good what for, she parked the car at a random subway entrance and descended to the tunnels below. After spotting no evildoers, Sara lowered her sights to an annoying mime who bore an amazing resemblance to Tommy Gallo. Deciding the guy was just asking for it with his feigned 'Oh, I'm in a box' routine, she headed over to give the bastard's box a good shove. Her mission, however, was suddenly intercepted by the blade's unprecedented mime-preservation policy.  
  
Sara was abruptly thrown into a now horrifyingly familiar yet increasingly importunate vision of Gabriel being hacked to pieces. When she became aware of her surroundings once more, her panicked state was met with the obnoxious mime, waving his gloved hands in front of her face as if she were the one inside a box. Without a second thought, the Wielder popped him in the kisser before reaching for her phone.  
  
*******************  
  
Scribbler's note: My heartfelt thanks to Roguegal17 for correcting all my mistakes and giving me the much needed support to continue this tale.   
  
To the few people still reading this story, thank you also. This wouldn't be here if it were'nt for you and Rogue. :) 


	30. an unenviable position

*** The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. The Sufult, Tome, Key, towel and a toothbrush are mine.   
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 29 ***************************************** Pocketing his phone, Ian noticed that Gabriel's was still vibrating. Miserably, he pulled it from his pocket. Certain that the blade had shown Sara Gabriel's abduction, he eyed the screen in dismay. He could just picture Sara's frantic face as she alternated between listening desperately for a pick-up and jabbing the redial button vehemently when none occurred, as if it were the button's fault.   
  
Oh, that the button could take the blame, Ian thought. It was plastic and metal film; cold; uncaring: the perfect scapegoat... He really didn't want to answer.   
  
He didn't have to answer. No one could force him. He eyed the phone again; eyed the back lot of the 7-11; eyed the vehicles passing by with the ridiculous notion, borne of desperation, that the Sufult might return with Gabriel to taunt him. Oh, they would pay. He would make them pay dearly, he thought hungrily, imagining the bloodbath he would unleash on them for leaving him in this loathed predicament. The few people pulling into the lot eyed him nervously.  
  
That Irons had set him up to fail, only added salt to the wound. Despite years of handling the most delicate and deadly of technical devices, the highly trained assassin clenched his fist around the phone in outrage; not realizing how perilously close his gloved pinky was to the answer button. Immediately, the back lot of the 7-11 was filled with the Wielder's desperate pleas: "Gabriel! Ian!"  
  
After the initial shock of hearing Sara's cries, the assassin stared at the now active phone. The desperation in her voice was palpable.   
  
Irons would not want him to respond. HE would not want himself to respond. Yet, as if in a daze he heard his voice utter- Sara.  
  
"Ia-, oh, Nottingham, is Gabriel with you? Is he okay?" Sara breathed.  
  
Why did he answer? Why- Oh, that's right, the world had been up-ended by a tenacious cult and a capricious young man. If Sara had any idea how much they had been put through in a matter of hours, she would have been amazed that either one of them were still alive. Instead, she most likely believed he had been driving around lackadaisically and accidentally left the boy somewhere. No matter what the situation, Sara would never forgive him. He glared menacingly at an annoyingly cheerful-looking man who was foolish enough to glance in his direction.   
  
Nottingham's extended silence confirmed what Sara had dreaded. "Damn it, Nottingham! You said you'd protect him!" she howled.  
  
"It was the boy's fault," Ian protested. "He refused to be accompanied in the men's room," he complained.  
  
Sara's angry retort was aborted by the sheer oddness of his excuse. While struggling to repress a visual of Ian guarding Gabriel as he peed, she tried to get her head around how this had somehow gotten her friend captured. Instead of trying to pry an explanation from Captain Crypto, Sara turned to the Blade.  
  
For once, it's glowing carmine stone seemed to respond to her wishes. Instead of a vision of what had happened, however, she saw what would have happened - Nottingham and Gabriel, holed up inside some stronghold as waves of men surrounded them. Blasted in walls; hordes rushing in, shooting and slashing until the assassin lay silent and Gabriel carried away, screaming and bloody.  
  
There had been no escape from this, ever since Irons set it in motion. It was like a train on a track, repeating history with the same destination. She stared at the amulet on her wrist as Ian patiently waited for her reply. "But you're okay, right?" Sara asked numbly.  
  
That was not what Ian had expected. He was temporarily speechless, wondering what kind of strange attack Sara was planning. "Yes," he answered warily, unable to think of a rational reason for Sara's odd retort and it's lack of venom.  
  
The Wielder swallowed her despair and steeled herself; she needed to find Gabriel. If he was still alive, she only needed to derail destiny before it reached its tragic end. But how she would do that, she hadn't a clue. She had no idea where they had taken him and she needed help. With Ian still alive, maybe they could stop events from falling into place, somehow wrest control from the ancient sect.   
  
Disturbed by Lady Sara's disquieting silence, yet unwilling to admit his perplexity either to himself or the Wielder, Ian settled for the most non-committal vocalization he could think of. "Sara?" he uttered, hoping to bring her out of whatever reverie she was in. Although they shared dreams at times, the Wielder's visions and thoughts, were hers and hers alone.  
  
"We need to find out where they took Gabriel. You have to help me save him, Nottingham," Sara stated resolutely.  
  
"I must go to Irons, Sara. I will contact you afterwards," Ian replied somberly.  
  
"No! No fucking way, Ian! You can't abandon us and run off to your prima donna master. I am NOT losing Gabriel again!" Sara shrieked.  
  
"Sara, you know as well as I, that I cannot disobey him," Ian argued.   
  
"But you-" Sara began to plead, before being cut off by the assassin.  
  
"Remember ALL that was said, and take head, Sara. I have no choice," Ian stated and clipped the phone shut before she could retort. Truth be told, Gabriel had become, in a very short time, one person whom he wished to keep alive. Despite the fact that he had mocked the young man for his actions, Gabriel's concern and efficient treatment of his laceration was unexpected and the closest to comaraderie he'd experienced since the Black dragons. That the boy actually comprehended his brief explanations for the most part was a bonus, not to mention that he was amusing beyond belief when he didn't. He sincerely hoped Irons' and Sara's wishes coincided.   
  
********************  
  
Sara glared at her phone in outrage before furiously snapping it shut. Maybe Nottingham was Irons' little puppet, but she certainly wasn't. Gabriel's capture was Irons' fault and if he wasn't going to help her get her friend back, she was going to geld him.  
  
As she strode determinedly towards the car, she spied the mime trying to gesture his assault to a uniformed officer. Judging by the look on the cop's face, Sara suspected the hapless mime was about to get his second belt of the morning.  
  
**************************************tbc . I'm betting anyone still reading this has assumed where this story is leading - who does what and how it ends. It looks quite formulaic at this point, doesn't it? *Silhouette of evil monkey rises from bottom of screen and slowly comes into focus as it slightly shakes its head from side to side, displaying an evil grin. It wags a finger creepily, before it's eyes turn fiery and it disappears from view* Still think you know?  
  
Patty- Thanks for the prompting and support. It's been a VERY long night for poor Ian. The upcoming chapters should give more details on the magnitude of what he's up against, as Irons is the only one with the low-down on the Sect.  
  
Ann- Hehe, candy coating on a steak. Hee! ^_^ Thank you. And thank you also for reminding me about the shy people. I was one once, myself. I think my first review was something like -hi, I like this. For some reason, I was very nervous.  
  
Fae Rain - I just love your reviews. Thank you. I also apologize for tormenting Gabriel. I think bathroom muse has it in for him, or something. You might want to close your eyes for parts of the next chapter, as things get creepy.  
  
Speaking of the next chapter; I've decided to give poor Rogue a break. After spamming her with chapters from both stories at a really hectic and monumental point in her life, I feel more than a bit guilty. So the next chappie will be unbeta'd. A bit risky, as she pointed out some logistics that needed addressing for this one. Hopefully they are fixed and I thank her again for her wonderful help. If anyone hasn't seen it yet, I suggest you check out 'See to hear' by Roguegal17 and at least say hi :) (If you'd like). It's her first time posting and reviews can either make or break your day or week.  
  
dragongrrl - I can't get to your story. It keeps sending me to chapter 3 or giving me a proxy error or saying site overload. Are you posting it on any other sites? 


	31. oubliette

The usual disclaimers. The story is mine. The characters are not. Batteries not included. Some restrictions may apply. *** The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade.   
  
*warnings, apologies and excuses* *** General creepiness, coarse language and not beta'd.  
  
******************** denotes change of scenery  
  
Tenebrous   
  
chapter 30 ***************************************** The muffled hum of traffic and the man's hand pressing his enshrouded head into the seat provided a twisted road trip ambiance for Gabriel's desolate ruminations. Judging by the steady pace of the car's engine and his captor's silent complacency, he deduced that Nottingham was not in pursuit of them. Whether that was because they had eluded the assassin or killed him, he didn't know.   
  
Although hoping for the first assumption, he resigned himself to the conclusion that there was no hope of rescue and little chance of escape. Nottingham supervising his bathroom activities seemed far less horrifying in hindsight. Yet some part of him doubted it would have changed the plight he was now in. The dark dream he'd woken from in the SUV didn't help ease his anxiety.   
  
He had feared they might use him as a bartering chip, to get either the Tome or the Blade. But the foreboding vision had screamed more painful death than temporary hostage. The alarming and unprecedented attempt on Sara's life not only escalated his fears but muddled the situation further. The one consoling aspect of the Sect was now removed. They could be up to anything.   
  
Different suppositions and scenarios churned in his head, none of them very comforting. Despite the fact that it had been only hours since the Sufult had broken into his shop, it felt like days. Tired and despondent, he let his mind drift as the vehicle sped towards its destination.  
  
In the midst of contemplating what Sara's reaction to his capture would be, he felt the vehicle begin to slow down. Gabriel tensed and the man shoved his skull further into the seat with a warning; "Don't try anything."   
  
Always willing to cater to bullies, Gabriel responded by swiftly thrusting his foot in the direction of the driver's seat, neatly clipping Brother Rason in the head. He was rewarded with a blaring of car horns and his captor toppling over him as the vehicle careened out of control. Better a quick death by car accident than give them what they want and die anyway, Gabriel mused flippantly as Rason recovered just in time to avoid being hit by a truck.  
  
Nolan managed to clamp a hand around Gabriel's throat, ending his cry for help before it could be noticed amongst the chorus of angry shouts coming from the vehicles surrounding them. "Keep driving!" he hissed at Rason before unleashing a stream of colorful curse-words on the young man in his grasp.  
  
Rason obeyed, still wondering what in the hell happened. He was relieved there were no police in the area as he observed people gaping in disbelief at the retreating Nova from their scattered vehicles. "Well, I guess I won't be using this car for a while," he commented, rubbing the back of his head. Although it wasn't exactly a hit and run, he knew someone would probably report the incident. Luckily, they were close to the underground tunnel that led to the main sanctuary of the area. Unless one of the drivers pursued immediately, the car would be out of sight before police could arrive.  
  
Releasing his grip before he choked the boy to death in his anger, Nolan restrained the troublemaker by sitting on him for the remainder of the trip. It appeared he should have went with his instincts on tethering the young man's legs. "It hurts," he mimicked, muttering to himself as he recalled his mistake of freeing the boy's lower limbs. Despite his innocuous appearance, the young man was unpredictably dangerous.  
  
*********************** The Wielder arrived at Irons' estate fuming. Her already furious state had not been helped by the drive to the mansion. Traffic had been a bitch and her increasingly agitated bracelet had transformed into a gauntlet, no doubt taking her dismay at being cut off by some maniac as a signal to start smashing windows. And here she'd thought talismans were impervious to road rage.  
  
The security guard who had come out to greet her noticed her hostile demeanor and simply gestured for her to follow as he tried to keep a safe distance ahead of her. By the time they made it inside the mansion he was practically running.  
  
Sara, trying to keep pace with the guard, was beginning to wonder if the man wasn't challenging her to a race. The long trek to Kenny's sitting room was over quickly but Sara wasn't keen on addressing the pompous bastard in the chair while winded. She waited till her speedy escort completed his wide arc around her to the exit before speaking.  
  
"Well, Kenny, I hope you've enjoyed your little game!" Sara snarled at the composed man who, at the moment, seemed to be admiring his manicure.  
  
"A pleasure to see you also, Sara," Irons blandished calmly, rising from his chair. "As for my 'little game'; I was enjoying it immensely until Mr. Bowman exposed himself by seeking rare transcripts from strangers rather than coming to me for assistance," Irons stated reprovingly.  
  
"You're trying to pin this on Gabriel?!" Sara huffed in disbelief. "Ya got one massive set of brass one's, Kenny!" she accused warningly as she took a step towards the arrogant man.  
  
"No need to be crude, detective. That sort of gutter talk hardly suits a woman of your lineage," Kenneth admonished.  
  
Sara was beside herself. Every conversation with the man was like trying to play tennis with a golf club. "My friend has been kidnapped because of your little ploy to control me," Sara declared angrily. "There is no reason why Gabriel would have come to you for help and you know it!" she added.  
  
"Hmm, you are right, Sara. That was a bit of an oversight on my behalf. Perhaps if my servant had kept better tabs on the boy, I would have been able to provide the information in time to prevent this little... incident," Irons asserted silkily.  
  
"Now your blaming Nottingham?!" Sara exclaimed. With Irons' audacity, she was wondering if he didn't need a hand-cart for his brass.  
  
"Wherever the blame falls," Kenneth scoffed, making a careless gesture. "I assume you have come to implore my assistance with your problem," he complained with a beleaguered sigh, dramatically placing a hand on his chest.   
  
"Implore? Assist? MY Problem?" Sara shrilled. "No, Kenny. I came here to ORDER you to FIX YOUR mess. I want Gabriel back, safe and unharmed," Sara snapped.   
  
"Actually, detective, I have already gone to great lengths towards that means. You should be grateful," Irons stated with a smug twist of his lips.  
  
"Oh yeah? What lengths would those be?" Sara queried impatiently.  
  
***********************  
  
Pissed that his retaliation seemed to accomplish nothing but a crushed throat and being sat on by the larger man, Gabriel fumed at his hopeless situation. Once the car came to a halt, the man pulled him out from underneath him, maintaining a firm if not bruising grip on his arms.   
  
Being shoved blindly out of the vehicle, he felt a second set of hands latch onto him while he tumbled out of the car and onto what felt like a dirt floor. "Watch his legs," a voice muttered from behind.   
  
The two men pulled him stumbling forward, the dirt ground beneath his feet beginning to feel more like smooth stone as they plodded along. He was contemplating what sort of place they had brought him to when he heard a door opening somewhere in front of him, followed by a man's sepulchral voice. "Finally ours," was uttered with such wanton wickedness that it sent Gabriel into a fit of panic.   
  
Struggling frantically to wrench himself from his captors' hold, he managed to break free briefly before hearing a sudden flurry of motion and shouts as he was tackled to the ground. Seemingly dozens of hands pinned him to the stone floor as his legs were forced together and his ankles bound. As he was hauled upright, Gabriel slackened in defeat. The instinctive revolt had been a rather reckless move. Even if he had managed to flee, he would have most likely ran into a wall anyway, as he couldn't see a damned thing.  
  
His consternation ended abruptly when the vile man spoke again, this time, inches from his face. Though he couldn't see anything, breath that smelled faintly of pepper wafted through the cloth covering his head.  
  
"He's quite a spitfire," Brother Pedious cloyingly observed as Gabriel recoiled. "Bring him to my quarters," he instructed imperiously.  
  
"Our orders are to take him directly to the Prime Consul, " Brother Rason interjected dutifully, unwittingly saving Brother Nolan from completely losing it and delivering a smackdown on the invasively presumptuous Brother Pedious.   
  
With a jerk to the side, the pepper breath was replaced by surprisingly welcome dank air as Gabriel was dragged away from the shuddersome interloper. He could hear murmuring coming from various directions as he was propelled forward by the two men. After being dragged through what seemed like endless corridors, they entered a room filled with sounds of rustling cloth and low whispering. The men yanked him up a set of steps before Gabriel was halted and forced to his knees.  
  
"Prime Consul," his captor greeted, pausing as the room became silent. "I give you Mr. Bowman," His captor announced coolly, removing Gabriel's hood in a gesture that bore far too much resemblance to that of a waiter revealing a main course.  
  
Squinting as his eyes adjusted to light, Gabriel peered up at the host of creepy looking men ogling him eagerly. Irrationally, he wished the man would put the covering back on.  
  
"Well done, Brother Nolan," Consul Damak stated with a smile. "Brother Rason," he added with a nod. Stepping forward, he studied the hostage kneeling between them. "Have you searched him for the key?" He queried.  
  
"I performed a brief inspection, but found nothing unusual on his person," Nolan answered.   
  
The Consul clenched his jaw in disapointment. "Perhaps a more thorough probe will turn something up," He determined, bending to closer examine the artifact dealer. "So, you have managed to open the tome," he murmured to the silent young man.  
  
Gabriel stared straight ahead and said nothing, trying desperately to ignore the probe threat. The Consul grasped Gabriel's jaw, tilting his chin up till he was facing the man squarely. He suppressed the urge to wrench away as the man's steel grey eyes bored down into his.  
  
"He seems... willful," Consul Damak stated at length, desisting his scrutiny and addressing Brother Nolan. "Did he give you any trouble?" he asked casually.  
  
A snort and an eyeroll from Nolan answered the Consul's query.  
  
Consul Damak heaved a sigh and returned his gaze to the prisoner. "It looks as if this may take some time. Take him to the interrogation pit and I will select some... inquisitors," Consul Damak stated grimly.  
  
Gabriel now wished he had put on a 'sally boy' act rather than kicking the driver in the head. 'Interrogation pit' did not sound fun and more than a few of the cloaked men had raised their hands a little too enthusiastically before the man had even turned to make his selection.   
  
*********************** Irons shot Sara a smirk before answering her prodding question. He knew the upstanding police officer would not approve of his methods. "The Sufult cannot be entirely destroyed, nor can they truly be bargained with. However, with the right amount of pressure, they may be dissuaded," Kenneth relayed, contemplating an urn.  
  
"So how are you planning to pressure them?" Sara needled, eyeing Kenny's sudden interest in a vase.  
  
"I have already set a few obstacles in motion. My servant Ian, has no doubt already proved to be a dissuasion of sorts," Kenneth smirked. "The culmination of my efforts and sheer number of Sufult deaths should put a damper on their new endeavor. However, unless they arrange for an exchange, your boy won't have that long to live," Irons informed the detective nonchalantly while gracefully sweeping across the room to stroke a curve of the urn.   
  
"They want to exchange Gabriel for the Tome," Sara stated resolutely. Nottingham had warned her about their intent.   
  
"They may or they may not," Kenneth frowned.  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Sara demanded. Part of her was wondering if that frown was because he didn't know what the Sufult would do or if it was caused by the vase not returning his attentions. Sheesh! He was practically molesting the thing.  
  
"Ian has provided the Sect with a replica of the Tome. They will want Mr. Bowman to open it. Of course he won't be able to, since it is simply the recreated shell," Kenneth explained, turning away from the urn.  
  
"What?" Sara gasped. Weakly, some part of her remembered Nottingham mentioning a fraud.   
  
"Knowing the Sufult, they will simply push Gabriel until he has either satisfied them or become useless. Either way, your little friend is as good as dead unless they discover the ruse. Even then, well..." Irons shrugged.  
  
***********************************************tbc  
  
Fae Rain - Sorry for scaring you. I hope this chapter wasn't too trying. There really was no alternative once the story passed chapter 6, but on the upside, there are forces working to save him. :) but then there's that evil monkey...   
  
Earthdragon - I'm afraid the torture is mostly mental/emotional at the moment. Your kitty did get a minor owie in. Sadistic kitty! Hehe. ^_^ Though I didn't elaborate on how uncomfy it would be to be sat on. Why on earth I had the man sit on him is beyond me. I think my muses must be nuts.  
  
Patty - Thank you for the warm compliments! *blushes* I'm glad you like their strange little comaraderie. Nothing like a dangerous road trip to overcome suspicion and jealousy, though I'm sure they still think each other as a bit odd. Hehe. Knights of Ni.  
  
Dragongirl - Hihi! I'm still snickering over Ian's french braid. 


End file.
